1: Master of Instinct
by HermitKnut
Summary: Lord Voldemort is dead. Here's to a happy ending; or not. Post-war life is far more complex than anyone expected. After a devastating blow so early, the Potters are left reeling – but it's only the beginning. With the death of outright evil, something more subtle has taken its place, and one wizard may not be enough. This time, it takes a whole family. Part 1 of Lightning Clan.
1. Prologue

A/N: For anyone who has not/doesn't want to read All for All, that is not a problem. Things you should know: the only two character deaths in the AU timeline were Hannah Abbott and Mad-Eye Moody. Scrimgeour is still Minister for Magic. No one knows what happened to Snape. Other than that, there should be very little confusion.

Summer 1999

Rufus Scrimgeour looked up from his paperwork at the polite knock on the door.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened and a thirty-something, nervous woman came in. Scrimgeour gestured to the chair on her side of his desk, giving her a reassuring smile. As she sat down, he nonchalantly opened his schedule for the day and glanced at the time. _Ah, of course._

"Miss Draper," he said, "of the Department of Mysteries, I assume."

Miss Draper nodded.

"The Mage Research Group," she said timorously. Scrimgeour nodded.

"What is it you wanted to see me about, Miss Draper?" he said, and waited expectantly for her to speak. She took a moment to gather herself, opening the black folder she carried and taking out a piece of parchment.

"As you know, sir, our group has had very little to do for many years. We spend most of our time looking into historical accounts of beings known as 'mages'." Here she paused nervously. Scrimgeour decided to take pity on her.

"Mages being defined in common parlance, I believe, as being to a wizard 'what a wizard is to a muggle'?" he enquired.

"Yes, sir. We believe that the actual definition is much more specific than that, of course," she continued, "but thus far we haven't had a chance to find out."

Scrimgeour nodded. Mages were the mythical figures of the Wizarding World. Merlin had been said to have been one, if such a person had ever truly existed, and a few names throughout history had been attached to the word – normally after they had died. Beliefs regarding the actual nature of a mage varied greatly from story to story, from tales about people who could control the elements, speak to animals, read another's mind like a book – but the one similarity that all these accounts held was that a mage's magic was wandless, and thus a 'different kind' of magic – 'magecraft' as a opposed to witchcraft or wizardry. The Mage Research Group was dedicated to seeking out the truth in such stories; Scrimgeour had been reading their file the day before, knowing this meeting was coming, and had learnt a surprising amount. The group believed they had actually encountered a mage some four hundred years ago, but in fear of, as he believed, "being experimented on", he had fled – and by the time they had managed to contact him, he had renounced all magical ability and was living as a muggle in Japan. He had never understood his powers – if he had had them – and they had terrified him.

The group had then managed to quietly have a law made that prevented mages from being harmed. Upon one being discovered, they were to present themselves to the group, who would then share their research with them in the hope of no one else feeling the way the last mage had.

But there had been no more mages.

The file detailed the creation of a device, said to be able to detect the use of so-called 'magecraft' anywhere in the country; however, the accuracy of the machine was entirely debatable as it had not been created until after the last known mage had forsaken his magic, and hadn't detected anything since then.

"The device is active, sir," said Miss Draper. Scrimgeour sat forward, looking at her curiously.

"When did it activate?" he asked. Miss Draper floundered.

"You are aware, sir, the accuracy of –"

"Yes, yes, I am," he said.

"Well, if the machine's accuracy can be trusted, sir, then we've been getting flickers of power for almost a year now. Tiny blips, nothing we would normally deem noteworthy – but then there was this." She passed him the piece of parchment in her hands. There was no need for Scrimgeour to inspect it closely – it was clear what she meant him to notice.

The chart on the paper displayed a flat line, up until a point that seemed to have occurred around Easter of the previous year. Here the line spiked dramatically, but briefly.

"Just a flash of it…" Scrimgeour said thoughtfully. Miss Draper handed him the second piece of parchment.

This was a continuation of the same chart, but here there were several spikes.

"Nothing on the level of that first spike, but much more frequently and sustained for longer," Miss Draper explained.

"Like someone's practising?" Scrimgeour murmured to himself. Miss Draper nodded.

"That's what we think, sir."

"And it's just the one?"

Mages were traditionally believed to appear in threes; the presence of one indicated that two more would arrive.

"Yes sir. But a trio of mages, according to our research, do not need to appear at once; they can be years apart."

The Minister leant back in his chair, and let out a long, slow breath.

"So, is there a procedure? I remember reading one in the file, but I can't quite recall how it was supposed to go," he said, knowing that she would be able to explain.

"We attempt to make contact, in as peaceful and non-confrontational way as possible," said the younger woman. "And according to ministerial protocol, sir… the Minister himself is supposed to be present to offer his official assurance that no harm will come to the person concerned." She said the last sentence rather quickly, as though uncertain of the reaction it would provoke. However, Scrimgeour had remembered this fact from the file, and it hadn't surprised him then. Mages were, by all accounts, incredibly powerful, and their powers were tied to their emotions much more strongly than the average wizard's. It was sensible, therefore, to give them the utmost respect when meeting for the first time, especially if it was unlikely that they knew much of their powers or of how to control them.

"Of course," he said. Miss Draper looked relieved.

"We believe we've located the source of the more recent spikes, though it hasn't been easy. But looking at when they typically occur, the next one should be in about three days time."

Scrimgeour clapped his hands together.

"Then I assume we're all going for a walk?" he asked.

x

He later regretted having been so enthusiastic. It was three days later and they had been tramping about the forest for several hours around the general area that 'magecraft' had supposedly taken place. The device which detected it was unmovable from the Ministry, or this would likely have been a lot quicker, the Minister thought. Still, the weather wasn't bad, and it at least was a change from sitting in the office all day. Scrimgeour looked at his watch. Around now, if he'd been having a normal day, his secretary would be bringing him a fresh cup of tea…

He realised that they had come to a stop. He looked around. They were in some kind of clearing, green and fresh, surrounded by pine trees and not much else.

"Found anything?" he asked, not holding out much hope, and he was right. Miss Draper and her two companions had merely stopped to reorganise the things they were carrying. Scrimgeour let his gaze drift around the circle of trees that surrounded them – but then something caught his eye.

"Miss Draper," he called quietly over his shoulder, as he walked towards one particular tree, "come and have a look at this."

There was a mark on the tree, like a scorch mark – but from no ordinary fire. It was in the shape of a hand print, and the edges were almost perfectly cauterised. The fingers of the hand were slender and long; long fingers were believed to be a hallmark of powerful magic, Scrimgeour knew, but he was dubious as to how much truth was in it.

Miss Draper was inspecting the mark, carefully making notes on size, location, and other characteristics in her notebook.

"It's quite clearly not been etched using any kind of tool," she said. "Look at how perfect the edges are – and you can even see the lines on the palm."

Scrimgeour looked closer and realised that she was right. There was a fine network of lines across the palm of the print, but not like those of the wood. Scrimgeour could follow the life line and the creases in the finger joints – and looking even more closely, it was just possible to make out the faint fingerprints of whoever had done this. He gave a low whistle.

"Impossible to be done with regular magic," he said. "They'd have had to have put their hand there – but it would have had to have been scorching hot."

One of Miss Draper's assistants muttered something under his breath that Scrimgeour didn't quite catch.

"What was that?" he asked.

The man looked up at him, shifting nervously, clearly uncertain how to talk to the Minister for Magic.

"I said it looks like we're dealing with an elemental, sir," he said.

"It's a possibility," Miss Draper said. She was just taking out a magnifying glass to inspect the print more closely, when there was a noise that Scrimgeour, having gone through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, recognised instantly.

"Quiet," he muttered. The other three immediately fell silent, looking around. Miss Draper sidled quietly closer to him.

"What is it?" she whispered nervously.

"Someone trying to be very, very quiet," Scrimgeour murmured with a grim smile. He spoke out, clearly and loudly, but calmly.

"Who's there?" he asked. There was a pause. "We're not going to hurt you," Scrimgeour said gently. "Whoever you are, whatever you can do, we're here to help you." Scrimgeour had been turning slowly, looking all around the clearing – at Miss Draper's widened eyes focused on something over his shoulder, he turned again to see what she was staring at.

In mid air, a short, diagonal line of fire had been drawn. As they watched, a second line was drawn joined to it, and after a few more seconds –

"It's writing," one of the assistants said. The group watched silently until the writer appeared to be finished. The completed message read:

_Why should I trust you?_

The words stayed long enough to be read and absorbed, and then faded into the air.

Scrimgeour thought for a moment, and then spoke again.

"You have no real reason to, I suppose," he said. "But you have my word, if that means anything to you." The group watched the same patch of air, expecting more words to appear in response, so they were startled when a voice came from behind them.

"Does it mean anything to you, is the real question," said the voice. The group turned and there, leaning against one of the trees, was –

"You?" asked Scrimgeour. The young man gave a short, humourless laugh.

"Yeah, me. Apparently."

He turned and began to walk away into the forest, and then turned back with a raised eyebrow.

"Well? Are you coming, or not?"

After a moment's pause, they followed him in silence.

He led them through the trees for a few minutes until they came to a small hollow by a fallen tree. He settled himself on the ground, leaning against the trunk. The other four sat down on the ground by the lip of the hollow – close enough to have a normal conversation, but not close enough to be a threat. Not that the young man seemed that worried about them; in fact, he seemed remarkably relaxed, though watchful.

"Sorry about that," he said, giving a half-smile, "but that clearing's surprisingly busy – it's the midpoint for a load of muggle rambling routes. If you want to talk it's probably best to do so away from someone else's picnic."

The others nodded, but otherwise did and said nothing. Scrimgeour glanced around at them. They looked as stunned as he had first felt.

_Of all the people to be a mage …_ Scrimgeour thought. _But then, how appropriate. How fitting… it makes sense of so many things…_

"Well?" the boy asked, leaning back against the fallen tree trunk and tilting his head up to gaze at the sky for a moment before looking back at the group in front of him.

"I don't bite, you know," he said, looking a little bit amused.

"No, you just make finely detailed, scorched handprints on tree trunks," said Scrimgeour, meeting his eyes with a raised eyebrow and a small smile. The boy – and however Scrimgeour tried to think of him as a young man, he couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen and for some reason seemed younger – the boy gave another short laugh.

"I thought you'd spot that," he said.

"You've been following us?" Scrimgeour asked.

"Only for the last half hour," the boy replied.

"You made that mark for us to see?" asked Miss Draper, politely. It was the first time she had spoken to him, and the boy gave a considering look at her and her assistants, and their bags.

"No," he said shortly. "That was from a while ago – I didn't realise that clearing was so popular, or I wouldn't have risked it."

She nodded, and then, seeing his expression, spoke again.

"My name is Aimee Draper… I'm from the Mage Research Group, Department of Mysteries."

At this the young man raised one eyebrow and glanced at the other two, who were sitting and at least, Scrimgeour realised, they were trying to make some vague attempt not to look dumbfounded. Miss Draper had clearly seen this too.

"This is Eric and Daniel; they are my assistants."

There was a pause.

"What do you want?" the boy asked finally.

"Well, really we're entirely here for your benefit – " Miss Draper started off, but she didn't have the chance to finish.

"_What_ do you _want?_" the boy asked again, quietly, calmly, his eyes flicking between Miss Draper and the Minister.

"What if it's not about what we want?" Scrimgeour asked.

The young man looked sceptical.

"I know the Ministry pretty well by now," he said.

"Then you'll know we tend to get tied up in bureaucracy," countered Scrimgeour, "and little laws. And according to those laws, you get all the power in this situation."

This seemed to surprise the boy.

"Why?" he asked after a moment's thought. "Why give me all the power when it's quite clear that I've got it already?" As he spoke, almost to himself, he rubbed the tip of his thumb along the inside of his middle finger; when it reached the tip a small, bright flame flickered to life on his skin. The others watched, captivated, as he flicked the flame across his hand and between his fingers.

"Unless you just want to use it…" he said, balling his hand quickly into a fist and then releasing it. The flame had gone.

"At which point, I think I rather have to be going." At this he stood, and Scrimgeour thought he had never seen anyone move so fluidly, so controlled. He seemed on the point of turning and leaving – Scrimgeour almost felt as though the boy would actually run – when Miss Draper spoke up.

"We have some information that you may find helpful."

The teen paused. Miss Draper, seeing her opportunity, continued, speaking quietly.

"Our group has been researching mages for hundreds of years; we are willing to give you access to all the information we have."

The boy turned and met her gaze.

"And what's the price?" he asked.

"We ask nothing from you," she said.

"So what do you get?"

"Mages are dangerous," Scrimgeour said shortly. "We get the comfort of knowing that you are learning to control your abilities – if you didn't the damage you could do would be…" he paused, searching for the right word.

"Horrific," the young man said, and Scrimgeour could have sworn that he saw tiny red flames in his vivid green eyes before he blinked and they disappeared.

"Yes."

The boy seemed to consider this.

"You don't have to decide right away," Miss Draper said. "You can contact us…" she held out a slip of parchment in her hand. There was a pause, and then the sensation of movement, and then the young man stood in front of Miss Draper. He took the parchment and looked at it. Scrimgeour blinked furiously. How had he moved that fast? But he didn't have time to ask, because a moment later the boy nodded politely to Miss Draper and Scrimgeour, and – left.

There was no other word for it. He didn't disapparate, nor did he disappear into thin air; of this Scrimgeour was certain. And, on replaying those moments in his mind, it did seem as though the boy had turned and walked away from them; but the several seconds that that action should have taken seemed to have been compressed into barely one…


	2. Lost

September 2008

It was Joe's sixth birthday. Casper had been teaching him how best to score a goal – against the back fence with a slightly deflated football – but now Joe's nine-year-old big cousin was just watching Joe and his friends from the steps that led to the back door.

"Can't catch me, can't, can't –"

Joe's mum was supervising a game of blind man's bluff; a small blond boy had his eyes blindfolded, and was grinning as he tried to capture his unseen friends as they darted around him.

"Casper. Inside, now."

His mother's voice was polite and stern, the voice of any ordinary mother asking something of her nine-year-old child, but Casper knew better. He followed her into the kitchen and stood on his spot on the floor.

She was talking to him, and he was listening, but it was so familiar he barely had to.

"I try, so hard, every day Casper, and you're just not doing your best."

"I'm sorry, mum."

"It's really not good enough. You were abnormal enough to begin with and sometimes you seem to make great leaps forward, but other days it feels like you're not even trying."

"I'm sorry, mum."

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you what you've done?"

"No, mum."

"Look at me when I'm talking! I work hard to make you right and you could at least be polite enough to pay attention!"

Casper lifted his head immediately.

"Yes, mum. Sorry mum."

"You know what to do, go on."

"Yes, mum."

Outside, six-year-old Joe looked around. Where was Casper? Casper must have gone inside. Joe wandered through the backdoor, which led to the living room, and then through the hall to the kitchen door. There he stopped. Peering around the door, he saw something he had never been supposed to see.

When it was over, he ran back through the living room and into the garden. He ran so distractedly that he tripped on the step and fell, grazing his knee badly.

And then there Casper was, his hand on Joe's back and a smile on his face, and it was easy to pretend he didn't know that under his big cousin's shirt was a small, circular burn. But Joe remembered; and from that moment on a small part of him realised that Casper needed looking after too.

x

August 2012

It was an unseasonably dark evening, but cosy inside the living room. A tall, red-haired man lounged on the sofa.

"Relax, Hermione, they'll be here soon."

He spoke to a woman his own age with softly curled hair as she hovered by the fireplace. She turned and raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm not –"

Her words were drowned out by a flash of green from the fireplace. She stepped back, and out of the flames came a man with brown hair and smiling eyes. The red-haired man stood up, grinning.

"Neville! It's good to see you. How's Assyria been?"

Neville grinned back, taking the other man's hand and pulling him into an embrace.

"Brilliant! Ron, some of the stuff out there's amazing, just unbelievable…" he turned to greet Hermione, and Ron moved to say hello to Susan Bones – now Susan Longbottom – who had appeared through the fire just after her husband.

After a few minutes of ooh-ing and ahh-ing over each other's appearances and changes, they moved to sit down. Ron fetched everyone drinks, and after that they were settled, and the conversation moved to the serious.

"So," Susan began, somewhat hesitantly, with a half-glance towards Neville, "we've been fairly out of touch for the last few years. But we did hear one thing; hard not to, really…" she trailed off, uncertain. Ron and Hermione were quiet; Ron was staring at the arm of the sofa without seeing it, and Hermione was turning her half-empty glass around and around in her hands. Neville spoke quietly.

"We didn't want to believe anything until we heard it from you. Didn't seem right to. But… Harry and Ginny are good friends of ours, and… well…"

"You don't have to justify it, mate," Ron said, his voice low. "It's just not the easiest thing to…"

He cleared his throat.

"What really happened?" Susan asked softly.

"It was so sudden," Hermione said, shaking her head a little. Ron took the glass from her so that he could hold her hand.

"From what Harry said, there was no sign, no clue beforehand."

"Or after," Ron muttered darkly, but looked apologetic when Hermione winced. She continued.

"He was just in the living room with the twins," she said. "The two of them – well, they would be – would have been –" she paused, took a slightly shaky breath, and continued. "It was their sixth birthday last week. And they both ran upstairs to get something, and – well – Harry didn't worry too much. The house isn't huge, and he could still hear them both. Anyway, a minute later he heard a thump from upstairs, and went up to make sure they're both alright." At this, Hermione closed her eyes slightly, and Ron gave her hand a quick squeeze before continuing the story himself.

"When Harry got up there, he went in Eddie's room first. Don't know why, it's the furthest from the stairs – but you know what Harry's instincts are like." Neville gave a grim half-smile and Susan nodded. "But when he went in… Eddie wasn't there." Ron heaved a sigh. "He checked everywhere, of course. Ezzy was fine, didn't even realise anything had happened – but that was it. No one's seen Eddie since."

Susan leant forward, her chin in her hand, brow creased.

"I don't understand," she said, frowning. "Harry and Ginny's home is one of the most well-warded in the country! Even the boy wandering into the garden should be able to be traced somehow."

Ron leant back in his chair.

"That's just it. 'Mione checked all the wards herself, of course," he said, nodding to her, "and there was nothing."

"Not a trace, not a whisper," Hermione said softly. "Not a single mark. Merlin knows how it was done."

Neville had been fairly quiet for a few minutes, but now he spoke up.

"So they're sure that someone actually took him?" he asked quietly. Ron shrugged. Anyone who did not know him as well as the other three did would have said that he was relaxed, but they could all see that the normal laughter was completely gone from his eyes.

"There's no way he could've got out on his own without us knowing about it. Even if… well…" Ron hesitated, glancing at Hermione again, "well, bodies don't hide themselves."

Hermione abruptly stood up and took her glass out to the kitchen.

"How is she?" Susan asked, when the door to the kitchen had closed.

"Blaming herself, mostly," Ron answered grimly. "She was the one who set up all the wards. But in all honestly, a couple of her friends from the I.U.S. came around to look at it as well as a few people from the ministry, and they all said it was the best they'd ever seen. No one can ask for more than that."

"Hermione can," Neville pointed out. Ron gave a sad smile.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a minute or so, hearing Hermione clatter around the kitchen.

"When did this happen?" Neville asked.

"'Bout six months ago," Ron replied. "They've had everyone all over it, magical and muggle – police and magical law enforcement, The Daily Prophet and all the muggle papers. But after six months…" he shook his head.

"How's the family taking it?" Susan asked.

"Difficult to say, really," Hermione said as she returned from the kitchen. "Everyone's been so on edge for so long now; Harry and Ginny more than anyone. Just waiting for some kind of result, some kind of news. Knowing anything would be better than this constant _waiting_." She settled back on the armchair, her forehead lined with worry.

"It's bad enough for us worrying about our nephew," Ron continued quietly, "I can't imagine what Harry and Ginny are going through…" His voice faded as he gave a half-glance upstairs, where their children slept.

The four of them carried on talking for most of the evening, and conversation returned to lighter topics – but always underneath every discussion, every topic, was the dark thought of the missing child.

x

October 2012

There was a thirteen-year-old boy sitting on the edge of the pavement, his head in his hands. He wasn't crying, but upon seeing his expression a passerby might wonder why not. His slightness made him look younger than he was, but the way that he was attempting to marshal his emotions suggested someone older. He was wearing a white school shirt without the tie under a dark blue hoodie, and old blue jeans with worn trainers.

After he had been sitting there for almost an hour, he was approached by a man in his early forties who sat down on the pavement next to him.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Chris."

The boy jumped and looked at him, frightened, about to bolt. His fists clenched by his sides. The older man raised his hands in a calming fashion.

"Hey, take it easy," he said soothingly. "I'm here to help, you're not in trouble."

He waited until the boy had relaxed a little before continuing.

"Are you on your own?" he asked gently. "Lost?"

The boy shrugged, wary. The man smiled.

"I can help you find your way back, if you tell me where you want to go," he said.

The boy muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" enquired the man.

"I can't go back," the boy replied quietly. "She told me I had to go, I don't have anywhere to go back to."

He had a very middle class tone to his voice, and he scuffed the toe of one trainer on the road as he spoke. The man smiled again.

"That's alright. How long have you been out on your own?" he asked.

"A week."

"Hungry and tired?" the man said knowingly. "I know somewhere safe you can stay for a while."

When the boy looked at him sharply, suspiciously, he put his hands up again, defensively.

"Hey, you can always run if you don't like it," he said.

Later, the boy would remember those words. He would turn them over and over in his head until they lost all meaning, but that didn't matter – there had been no truth in them to begin with.

x

March 2014

It was raining the day that two teenaged boys walked down a side street between two rows of houses in London.

The younger one was ahead of the older one.

"Ghost, wait. Come on, this is stupid," the older boy said. He looked around sixteen years old, thin-faced and of average height. He had pulled his cotton hood over his head and it was already nearly soaked through; his hair was poking out of it in wet clumps.

"Look, there's nothing there – it's just crackheads, no one actually lives here," he tried. The younger boy turned to look at him. He was around fourteen, and his brown hair was plastered to his head by the rain.

"Then what about last night?" he asked as though he was stating the obvious.

The older boy rolled his eyes.

"Maybe they were just using it so you wouldn't know where they really lived," he guessed half-heartedly. "Come on, it's chucking it down. I've got a couple of quid, we could get chips…"

The younger boy ignored him and sped up so that the older boy had to almost run to catch him up.

"Nice, hot chips," the older boy tried again. "With salt and vinegar. And maybe we could get your big mate to pick us up some booze."

"Go on then, you go," the younger boy replied, still walking. "I'm going to get a look."

"I'm not letting you wander around here on your own. You're just a kid."

At this, the younger boy stopped and turned to him angrily.

"Shut up, Mara. Like I can't take care of myself. Who was it that took down Rogers last week when you couldn't even get a look in?"

The older boy didn't respond and so the younger one started walking again. They continued in silence for a few more minutes until the younger boy stopped.

"This is the one," he said.

They were standing outside the back of an old house. It seemed to be unlived-in; all the windows from the ground to the attic were boarded up with wood, and ivy was growing up the walls. It was nearly identical to the ones on either side of it; the entire street was more than overdue for redevelopment, but the council hadn't got around to it yet.

The older boy sighed. He was soaked through and in no mood to hang around.

"There, you've seen it. Now can we go?"

In answer, the younger boy walked over to the garden wall between them and the house.

"Are you going to give me a hand up or what?"

A few minutes later, and the two of them were in the back garden. The rain had lessened, but it was still spitting. The older boy tugged his hood down and squeezed the water out of it before pulling it back onto his head warily.

"What now?" he asked. He sounded defeated.

"Can we get up to the attic window?" the younger teen asked. The older one took a step back, sizing up the house. There was an ugly extension tacked on to the back which would get them level with the first floor, but the second floor window would mean clambering up a drainpipe. He chewed the inside of his lip for a minute, thinking.

"Probably. But you do exactly what I tell you, alright?"

The younger boy nodded.

It took some careful planning and a couple of heart-stopping moments where the drainpipe shuddered dangerously, but then they were up on the relatively broad windowsill of the attic window. The younger boy was standing, clinging to the frame and trying to find a gap in the wooden boards to see through. The older boy kept glancing around; it wouldn't do for anyone to see them up there.

Suddenly the younger boy froze, and then his head jerked away from the gap he had found.

"Ghost, what is it?" the older boy asked. "Ghost?"

The younger boy had leant in to the gap again, and he looked confused.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Come back, I won't hurt you…"

"Ghost, we've got to go," the older boy said, reaching for his arm. He could see a group of men walking down the street. "Kenny's gang won't like us being here, we've got to get out before they spot us – "

"They're not coming up here," the younger boy said dismissively, still pressed against the boards. The older boy sighed in frustration.

"No, but they could still see us. Move, come on."

Three painstakingly slow seconds later, the younger boy moved. His older friend had to watch for both of them as they climbed carefully down, because the younger boy kept looking back up to the window.

"Come on, let's get out of here," the older boy said. Not waiting for a response, he grabbed the younger boy's upper arm and pulled him down the street at a run.

x

August 2017

Harry was reading the newspaper in his basement study when he heard a knock on the door, accompanied by two distinct giggles. He smiled.

"Come in."

The big door swung easily at the press of little hands, and the twins tumbled into the room. Harry put his paper down and stood up, walking around his desk to give them both a hug, but when he closed his arms around them suddenly one of them was gone.

And then he was running up the stairs and the door was flying open but the room was empty, so empty, and that gap was agonising because it was so very wrong. Something, someone so important was missing, they were not where they should be –

_- wide eyes like the sea screaming in a darkened room -_

Harry sat up in bed, sweating, breathing heavily. His heart seemed to be pounding its way out of his chest, and he had to force himself not to leap out of bed and run to check on Esmerelda. _Wait_, he told himself. He looked over to the other side of the bed – thankfully Ginny seemed to be sleeping peacefully, her long red hair spread over the pillow. Harry smiled slightly; the sight never ceased to be a calming one. All the same, he slipped quietly out of bed without disturbing her, pulled on his dressing gown, and padded softly out into the hallway. As always, he hesitated slightly at the first door that he passed. They'd long since taken the letters that spelt out "Edward" off of the door, but there were slight faded marks on the wood where they had been. Harry ran his fingers along them gently before moving to the next room, the door of which was slightly ajar.

He gently nudged it and tilted his head so that he could see a little way inside. There was eleven-year-old Esmerelda – Ezzy to most people, but Harry had loved the full name when Ginny had suggested it. It had an added special quality to it that he was one of the few people who called her by it. She was asleep in much the same way that her mother was, pale, slender limbs wrapped around herself but her long black hair was plaited to keep it out of the way. He looked on for a moment, reassuring himself of her safety, before pulling the door gently to again and walking back along the landing.

He did not return to his and Ginny's room, knowing he would not be able to sleep again now, but made his way downstairs and then downstairs again to his study in the basement.

It was furnished a little like the Gryffindor common room, with deep red walls and a soft red carpet. There were a few book cases along one wall, and a very comfortable chair in one corner that he had fallen asleep in on more than one occasion. Along the wall to the left of the oak desk was a row of moving photographs – all of a group of mostly red-haired people, more and more in each photograph. The Weasley family photograph was taken every three years, normally by Creevey Photography. But most prized of photographs was in a frame on Harry's desk, and as he sat down behind the desk it was this that he was looking at. It was a black-and-white shot, showing himself, Ginny, Edward and Esmerelda. The twins had been about four at the time, and with Ezzy's short hair they were nearly identical. Eddie was thinner and smaller though – he had always – would have always – weighed less, as he had been born with health problems. Harry sighed, and dragged his eyes away from the photograph.

Esmerelda would be heading to Hogwarts in under a month now, going to join her older Weasley cousins. Harry smiled. She was very excited about it – they had taken her to Diagon Alley a few days ago to buy all her school supplies, and Harry knew that she was itching to pack her bags already. He did not blame her – she was a sociable girl and he knew she wanted to spend more time with her friends than her parents. She already put up with far more fussing and parental protectiveness than she really should have to, and she did it with good grace, for which Harry was very grateful.

Harry sank back into his desk chair, turning things over in his mind. His eyes flicked over to his filing cabinet. He had an entire drawer dedicated to research into his son's disappearance, but it only contained newspaper clippings from various announcements and false alarms.

_How can someone disappear without any trace left behind?_


	3. Found

July 2019

It was over two months before anyone heard anything from the Potters. Even George did not seem to know much – Katie never really discussed it, being far too busy to want to discuss work when she was at home. Eventually, though, Harry turned up at Ron and Hermione's home one evening when they had some of Ron's siblings visiting, looking tired but much better than the last time they had seen him.

"How is the Potter family, then?" asked Bill as Harry sat down.

Harry took a breath and a moment to think before he answered.

"Making progress," he said, nodding a little to himself. "Things are getting better, slowly but steadily."

"That's good," Hermione said, smiling.

"How are Ezzy and Ginny?" Ron asked. "Haven't seen Gin in ages, is she at yours now?"

Harry nodded again.

"I guess both of us are being a bit paranoid at the moment…" He shrugged sheepishly.

"Don't want to leave him on his own?" Angelina asked understandingly.

"Yeah. Ginny more than me, I think," Harry replied. "But she says she'll come and say hello soon." He leant back in his chair.

"How's Eddie?" Fred asked quietly. Again, Harry paused for a moment before speaking.

"Better. He's still very much always in his room, doesn't want to come out. And he's jumpy, very jumpy. But he's alright around Esmerelda, actually; Sara thinks he probably hasn't been around people his own age since he was here, so he's kind of fascinated by her. One of the several reasons she didn't head back to school with the others. We're having her work sent home."

"Who's Sara, Harry?" George asked curiously.

"Sara is a psychiatrist," Harry said. "A Healer for your head, if you like," he continued, seeing that the others were a little confused. Hermione met his eyes and they exchanged looks of amusement. "She's a Muggle herself, but her husband and two kids are all our sort, so she works in both worlds these days. She's one of the best."

Harry could tell that his various in-laws still did not completely understand what a psychiatrist was, but Hermione could tell them later, he was sure. For now, he should be getting back and making sure that everyone – Ginny and himself included – got a decent night's sleep. He exchanged goodbyes with everyone before heading back home via the floo network.

x

August 2019

"Esmerelda, you need to be back in Hogwarts this term. I know we let you stay at home last term because of your brother, but you need your education –"

"But I'll do all my work at home, like before!"

" – and Eddie needs to learn to be alright when you're not around all of the time," Ginny finished sternly. Her daughter scowled. They had been arguing this back and forth for over an hour – and this was only today. The same argument had been going on since Esmerelda's Hogwarts letter had arrived nearly a month ago now. Harry stepped in with a suggestion he had been thinking about for a few days.

"Ezzy, how about this," he began. She turned to him, and he could see that she was already anticipating another why-you-have-to-go-to-school argument.

"How about you go back to Hogwarts – hey, hear me out," he said, as she tossed her hair angrily. "You go back to Hogwarts during the week and we let you come home every weekend. Does that sound reasonable?"

He glanced across at Ginny, who also looked thoughtful. They waited for Ezzy's verdict.

"I suppose…" Esmerelda looked uncertain. "I mean, it sounds fair," she finished reluctantly. Harry nodded, pleased.

"I'll send an owl to your head of house," he said. "Remember we have to get permission from Hogwarts first; but as long as you're getting your work done and it's not too stressful to be going back and forth all the time –" he gave her a pointed look "- then I don't think they'll have any problems with it."

There was the sound of soft footsteps from the doorway, and Harry turned his head to see Eddie leaning gently against the doorway. It was a vast improvement on the Eddie of several months ago – the healers hadn't been able to fix all of the scars as some were too old and in all probability had been caused by magic, but they had dramatically reduced the number on his face. He was still pale and thin, but less so than before, and although one half of his right foot had been so severely damaged that it had had to be removed, he had adapted almost flawlessly to the prosthetic replacement. And most importantly, although he was still very cautious and wary around other people, he walked mostly without the near-crippling fear that he had woken up with.

Harry smiled softly.

"Hello Ed," he said. Eddie nodded at him, not quite meeting his father's eyes with his own, and went to his sister. Eddie communicated pretty well – like Ginny, he could express himself well with just his face, and he was slowly learning to read and write again by copying Ezzy – but he had yet to speak at all since he had returned, preferring instead to stay silent and watchful. Esmerelda took her brother's hand gently. As they left to go about their usual day – Eddie had a tendency to copy his sister in the way younger children will copy those a year or two older than them, and spent most of the day with his sister, learning what it was to be thirteen – Harry could not help but feel hopeful for the future. Eddie was still in a very difficult place; he had yet to start talking about anything that had happened to him. But he had made such good progress in the last few months, surpassing all expectations, that Harry allowed himself to dream for a moment the dream that he kept hidden in the back of his mind: Eddie and Esmerelda, several years from now, living out their lives in the best way that they could.

x

September 2019

Saturday morning, the first Saturday since Esmerelda had returned to school. Eddie had been even more withdrawn than usual around the house that week, seeming to be confused and lost even when Harry or Ginny drew him into something like reading or writing or playing cards as Esmerelda had taught him. It was just Harry and Eddie in the house – Ginny had gone through the floo a few minutes ago to pick up Esmerelda, but they were detouring via Diagon Alley to pick up a few things before they came back. Father and son sat in the living room, both cross-legged on the floor, a careful amount of space between them as they both read separate copies of the same book. Eddie was still very particular about how close people got to him – he tended to be jumpier and edgier the closer someone else came, with the exception of his sister. Harry was very careful to give him his space as they read.

When they got to the end of a chapter, Eddie following along well judging by the slight changes in his expression as he reacted to what he was reading, Harry closed the book gently.

"Ezzy's coming back today, Ed," he said quietly. "Are you looking forward to seeing her?"

Eddie looked at his father. Esmerelda had her mother's soft hazel eyes, but Eddie had a strange mix of grey-blue-green that made his eyes look like stormy seas, especially when they were widened as they were now. Eddie looked uncertain, but not upset, so Harry took this as a good sign. They had explained to Eddie what was going to happen before it did, but he had only gone quieter than usual and nodded slightly.

All of a sudden there were footsteps in the kitchen; Eddie jumped a little but Harry waited patiently before holding out his hand for Eddie to take.

"It's just Ginny and Ezzy," he said. "Come and say hello?"

After a moment's hesitation, Eddie reached out and took his father's hand with slender fingers. They both walked towards the kitchen, Eddie moving to be a little bit behind his father, uncertain.

When they got into the kitchen, there was Esmerelda. She grinned when they walked in.

"Hi Eddie!" she said. Harry could see her toning down her energetic mood so as not to make her brother jump. Eddie leant around his father to see, and his eyes widened at the sight of his sister. Ezzy held out her hand.

"I'm back for the weekend Eddie, remember?" she asked carefully.

Eddie seemed to consider this, chewing his lip. Then he gave a hesitant nearly-smile and took his sister's hand.

"I've got some new books to show you," Ezzy began as she led Eddie upstairs to her room. Ginny, who had been standing in the opposite corner waiting for the twins to meet, came into the middle of the room.

"I think you were right," she said quietly. "I'm glad she's back at school and seeing her friends, but Eddie needs her too."

Harry nodded.

"I just hope that we're not pulling her too many directions at once," he said.

x

December 2019

For Christmas that year, Eddie received a number of simple little presents, but his favourite came from his uncles Fred and George. It was a simple necklace, a blank pendant on a chain, just like the ones that Harry, Ginny and Ezzy wore along with the rest of the Weasley family. When Ginny helped him put it on and the pendant rested against his skin, the metal swirled slightly and on the surface there formed a symbol Harry had not seen before: something like two question marks, one overlapping the other. On the back there was a simple "W" and a holly leaf.

"You've got a family, Eddie," Harry said softly. Eddie did not smile, but his eyes were brighter.

x

February 2020

Eric Hathaway, minor employee of the Department of Mysteries, attached to the Mage Research Group, sat grumpily in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, nursing a Firewhisky and a frown.

He had planned to spend the night with his friends, but they had all apparently decided that they had better things to do. Girlfriends, mostly. And a fiancée in one case.

Eric took a sip of the Firewhisky, scowling. He'd just have a night in instead. Maybe flick through the paper that he'd picked up that morning but not had time to read. Draper had had them all on their toes all day, cross-referencing dates and weather patterns and newspaper articles. The woman had clearly got something on the brain, and as Eric and his co-workers were never given any of the top-secret details they were stuck trudging through endless bits of paper until one of them caught her fancy.

He was still grumbling internally about his boss when someone sat down next to him.

"Eric!" a loud voice said, as a hand gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Haven't seen you since Hogwarts, how've you been?"

Eric turned to look at the stranger and smiled. He was sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was angry at the interruption to his solitude. But that didn't seem to matter.

He took another sip of the Firewhisky and the happy numbness intensified. What a good evening he was having…

The next morning, Eric woke up in his own bed with several empty bottles of Firewhisky and a hangover. He looked at the time, groaned, and forced himself out of bed to rush to work. He had to nip back to the Leaky Cauldron on his way there; apparently he'd left his work keys there last night.


	4. Progress

July 2019

It was over two months before anyone heard anything from the Potters. Even George did not seem to know much – Katie never really discussed it, being far too busy to want to discuss work when she was at home. Eventually, though, Harry turned up at Ron and Hermione's home one evening when they had some of Ron's siblings visiting, looking tired but much better than the last time they had seen him.

"How is the Potter family, then?" asked Bill as Harry sat down.

Harry took a breath and a moment to think before he answered.

"Making progress," he said, nodding a little to himself. "Things are getting better, slowly but steadily."

"That's good," Hermione said, smiling.

"How are Ezzy and Ginny?" Ron asked. "Haven't seen Gin in ages, is she at yours now?"

Harry nodded again.

"I guess both of us are being a bit paranoid at the moment…" he shrugged sheepishly.

"Don't want to leave him on his own?" Angelina asked understandingly.

"Yeah. Ginny more than me, I think," Harry replied. "But she says she'll come and say hello soon." He leant back in his chair.

"How's Eddie?" Fred asked quietly. Again, Harry paused for a moment before speaking.

"Better. He's still very much always in his room, doesn't want to come out. And he's jumpy, very jumpy. But he's alright around Esmerelda, actually; Sara thinks he probably hasn't been around people his own age since he was here, so he's kind of fascinated by her. One of the several reasons she didn't head back to school with the others. We're having her work sent home."

"Who's Sara, Harry?" George asked curiously.

"Sara is a psychiatrist," Harry said, "a Healer for your head, if you like," he continued, seeing that the others were a little confused. Hermione met his eyes and they exchanged looks of amusement. "She's a muggle herself, but her husband and two kids are all our sort, so she works in both worlds these days. She's one of the best."

Harry could tell that his various in-laws still did not completely understand what a psychiatrist was, but Hermione could tell them later, he was sure. For now, he should be getting back and making sure that everyone – Ginny and himself included – got a decent night's sleep. He exchanged goodbyes with everyone, before heading back home via the floo network.

x

August 2019

"Esmerelda, you need to be back in Hogwarts this term. I know we let you stay at home last term because of your brother, but you need your education –"

"But I'll do all my work at home, like before!"

" – and Eddie needs to learn to be alright when you're not around all of the time," Ginny finished sternly. Her daughter scowled. They had been arguing this back and forth for over an hour – and this was only today. The same argument had been going on since Esmerelda's Hogwarts letter had arrived nearly a month ago now. Harry stepped in with a suggestion he had been thinking about for a few days.

"Ezzy, how about this," he began. She turned to him, and he could see that she was already anticipating another why-you-have-to-go-to-school argument.

"How about you go back to Hogwarts – hey, hear me out," he said, as she tossed her hair angrily. "You go back to Hogwarts during the week and we let you come home every weekend. Does that sound reasonable?"

He glanced across at Ginny, who also looked thoughtful. They waited for Ezzy's verdict.

"I suppose…" Esmerelda looked uncertain. "I mean, it sounds fair," she finished reluctantly. Harry nodded, pleased.

"I'll send an owl to your head of house," he said. "Remember we have to get permission from Hogwarts first; but as long as you're getting your work done and it's not too stressful to be going back and forth all the time –" he gave her a pointed look "- then I don't think they'll have any problems with it."

There was the sound of soft footsteps from the doorway, and Harry turned his head to see Eddie leaning gently against the doorway. It was a vast improvement on the Eddie of several months ago – the healers hadn't been able to fix all of the scars as some were too old and in all probability had been caused by magic, but they had dramatically reduced the number on his face. He was still pale and thin, but less so than before, and although one half of his right foot had been so severely damaged that it had had to be removed, he had adapted almost flawlessly to the prosthetic replacement. And most importantly, although he was still very cautious and wary around other people, he walked mostly without the near-crippling fear that he had woken up with.

Harry smiled softly.

"Hello Ed," he said. Eddie nodded at him, not quite meeting his father's eyes with his own, and went to his sister. Eddie communicated pretty well – like Ginny, he could express himself well with just his face, and he was slowly learning to read and write again by copying Ezzy – but he had yet to speak at all since he had returned, preferring instead to stay silent and watchful. Esmerelda took her brother's hand gently. As they left to go about their usual day – Eddie had a tendency to copy his sister in the way younger children will copy those a year or two older than them, and spent most of the day with his sister, learning what it was to be thirteen – Harry could not help but feel hopeful for the future. Eddie was still in a very difficult place; he had yet to start talking about anything that had happened to him. But he had made such good progress in the last few months, surpassing all expectations, that Harry allowed himself to dream for a moment the dream that he kept hidden in the back of his mind: Eddie and Esmerelda, several years from now, living out their lives in the best way that they could.

x

September 2019

Saturday morning, the first Saturday since Esmerelda had returned to school. Eddie had been even more withdrawn than usual around the house that week, seeming to be confused and lost even when Harry or Ginny drew him into something like reading or writing or playing cards as Esmerelda had taught him. It was just Harry and Eddie in the house – Ginny had gone through the floo a few minutes ago to pick up Esmerelda, but they were detouring via Diagon Alley to pick up a few things before they came back. Father and son sat in the living room, both cross-legged on the floor, a careful amount of space between them as they both read separate copies of the same book. Eddie was still very particular about how close people got to him – he tended to be jumpier and edgier the closer someone else came, with the exception of his sister. Harry was very careful to give him his space as they read.

When they got to the end of a chapter, Eddie following along well judging by the slight changes in his expression as he reacted to what he was reading, Harry closed the book gently.

"Ezzy's coming back today, Ed," he said quietly. "Are you looking forward to seeing her?"

Eddie looked at his father. Esmerelda had her mother's soft hazel eyes, but Eddie had a strange mix of grey-blue-green that made his eyes look like stormy seas, especially when they were widened as they were now. Eddie looked uncertain, but not upset, so Harry took this as a good sign. They had explained to Eddie what was going to happen before it did, but he had only gone quieter than usual and nodded slightly.

All of a sudden there were footsteps in the kitchen; Eddie jumped a little but Harry waited patiently before holding out his hand for Eddie to take.

"It's just Ginny and Ezzy," he said. "Come and say hello?"

After a moment's hesitation, Eddie reached out and took his father's hand with slender fingers. They both walked towards the kitchen, Eddie moving to be a little bit behind his father, uncertain.

When they got into the kitchen, there was Esmerelda. She grinned when they walked in.

"Hi Eddie!" she said. Harry could see her toning down her energetic mood so as not to make her brother jump. Eddie leant around his father to see, and his eyes widened at the sight of his sister. Ezzy held out her hand.

"I'm back for the weekend Eddie, remember?" she asked carefully.

Eddie seemed to consider this, chewing his lip, then he gave a hesitant nearly-smile and took his sister's hand.

"I've got some new books to show you," Ezzy began as she led Eddie upstairs to her room. Ginny, who had been standing in the opposite corner waiting for the twins to meet, came into the middle of the room.

"I think you were right," she said quietly. "I'm glad she's back at school and seeing her friends, but Eddie needs her too."

Harry nodded.

"I just hope that we're not pulling her too many directions at once," he said.

x

December 2019

For Christmas that year, Eddie received a number of simple little presents, but his favourite came from his uncles Fred and George. It was a simple necklace, a blank pendant on a chain, just like the ones that Harry, Ginny and Ezzy wore along with the rest of the Weasley family. When Ginny helped him put it on and the pendant rested against his skin, the metal swirled slightly and on the surface there formed a symbol Harry had not seen before: something like two question marks, one overlapping the other. On the back there was a simple "W" and a holly leaf.

"You've got a family, Eddie," Harry said softly. Eddie did not smile, but his eyes were brighter.

x

February 2020

Eric Hathaway, minor employee of the Department of Mysteries, attached to the Mage Research Group, sat grumpily in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, nursing a Firewhisky and a frown.

He had planned to spend the night with his friends, but they had all apparently decided that they had better things to do. Girlfriends, mostly. And a fiancée in one case.

Eric took a sip of the Firewhisky, scowling. He'd just have a night in instead. Maybe flick through the paper that he'd picked up that morning but not had time to read. Draper had had them all on their toes all day, cross-referencing dates and weather patterns and newspaper articles. The woman had clearly got something on the brain, and as Eric and his co-workers were never given any of the top-secret details they were stuck trudging through endless bits of paper until one of them caught her fancy.

He was still grumbling internally about his boss when someone sat down next to him.

"Eric!" a loud voice said, as a hand gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Haven't seen you since Hogwarts, how've you been?"

Eric turned to look at the stranger and smiled. He was sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was angry at the interruption to his solitude. But that didn't seem to matter.

He took another sip of the Firewhisky and the happy numbness intensified. What a good evening he was having…

The next morning, Eric woke up in his own bed with several empty bottles of Firewhisky and a hangover. He looked at the time, groaned, and forced himself out of bed to rush to work. He had to nip back to the Leaky Cauldron on his way there; apparently he'd left his work keys there last night.


	5. Introductions

March 2021

Eddie improved swiftly over the next couple of years. Oddly swiftly, almost – both Sara the psychiatrist and Katie were astonished at how quickly he returned to near-normal. He was still quieter, more reserved than his sister by several miles. But he joined her at Hogwarts for her sixth year, and benefited greatly from the overprotective nature of his many cousins.

It helped that he now had a focus to his life. Ginny, who had started out by writing songs for Mixed Blood – a group of aware muggles, squibs and witches who sold their music to both muggle and wizarding audiences – had not made writing music her career, but Harry had bought a little upright piano for the house at the time, nonetheless. Jamie, a pianist friend of Ginny's, came around on a semi-regular basis and they would often open the piano and muck around. It had been on one of those occasions that the then fourteen-year-old Eddie had slipped in to watch, fascinated, as Jamie's fingers danced across the keys. Eventually he had worked up the nerve to stand right by the piano, and Jamie had showed him how to play a tune. The two had become fast friends as this evolved into regular lessons. Eddie now played for hours every day – and demonstrated quite the talent for it.

Although he was five years behind in his Hogwarts studies he was a bright, attentive student. He was studying basic spells and potions – the pure core of what was necessary to make his way in the wizarding world – and was to take specialised, stripped down exams in his final year instead of O. and N.E. . In his free time, however, he studied music obsessively. Jamie had managed to arrange for him to take a Muggle GCSE in the subject.

"Come in," Harry said in response to a knock on his study door. Eddie entered in his usual quiet manner and came over to lean against Harry's desk.

"What are you working on?" he asked, sounding interested as his eyes flicked over the parchment and the paperwork scattered across the room.

"Oh, all sorts," said Harry, leaning back in his chair. "I need to sort out a refurnishing for the house in Oxford, and there's an argument between the tenants and the cleaning staff in the London flats…" he trailed off, noting Eddie's raised eyebrows. "Alright," he said, giving in, "I've been talking to a few people I know, looking for anything to do with you. But there's still nothing."

Eddie was silent for a minute or so, chewing his bottom lip consideringly. Then he looked straight at his father.

"It's been nearly three years since I got back. I think you should stop looking," he said. Harry frowned.

"Eddie, the people that took you – that hurt you – deserve to be put away. Not just because of you, they could get to someone else. I can't just – "

"I just meant," Eddie interrupted, "that maybe if you give it a break, things will… they'll start clearing up. They've got to know you're looking for them."

Harry observed his son silently, considering. As a sixteen-year-old he was often mistaken for much younger; he was far skinnier and shorter than Harry had ever been. He was always quiet, preferring to listen than to talk. And although he was behind his peers in so many areas, he had an uncanny knack for saying the right thing at the right time.

"I'm not scared, if that's what you think," the teen said quietly. "I know they won't find me again."

"I know. Maybe I'll cut it a break. Why don't you head upstairs and see if your sister's back from her drama thing?"

Eddie nodded, and headed back upstairs. But after he'd gone, Harry stared at the door for a while. _I know they won't find me again._ There had been something in Eddie's expression when he'd said that… something oddly confident, as though he knew for certain that he couldn't be found now…

Harry shook his head. _Rubbish. _

He sifted his paperwork again, and tried to remember where he'd got to.

x

July 2021

The sun shone brightly through the kitchen window as it began to set. A large portion of the Weasley family were talking animatedly about the party in two weeks' time – every member of the family had been invited and asked, as ever, to invite their friends and in-laws along too. Henry was leaning against the wall by the window, listening to the conversation, when it turned to him.

"What I really, really think we should know," his middle sister, Elizabeth, was saying, "is about Henry's secret girlfriend." Henry stifled a groan. His siblings had picked up on the fact that he went out several evenings a week when he was at home, and he had stupidly told them the truth: he was going out with someone. He had refused to specify any more than that, but the damage had been done – his siblings and cousins were now almost entirely convinced that Henry had a mysterious girlfriend. Which, of course, he didn't.

Elizabeth saw the expression her brother had pulled at the mention of this unknown figure.

"Henry, are you or are you not inviting her to the party?" she asked. Henry sighed. He probably shouldn't have mentioned that, either.

"I have invited someone I know to the party, yes," he said, being carefully truthful.

"Well," his sister continued, "it's only fair that you tell us more about her. I don't think it would be very nice if she turns up in a couple of weeks and no one here knows anything about her!"

"She has a point, Henry," said Roberta. Henry couldn't help but think she was right; he had invited Joe to the party next week, and it wouldn't be fair for no one else to know about them. Admittedly Joe wouldn't mind… and it would in all probability be hilariously funny, if he knew his siblings at all… but still, unfair…

Henry thought his siblings were lucky he had more of a conscience than that, even if he did take a moment to grin to himself at the idea of walking into the Weasley family party, introducing Joe as his boyfriend and then just leaving everyone to gossip. He sighed, and reluctantly began to speak.

"What do you want to know?" he asked. "No, wait a minute – what exactly do you think you know about my non-existent 'girlfriend'?" At the last word he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. His sisters looked thoughtful for a moment.

"We know she's a Muggle," Roberta said, "but that she knows someone or is related to someone at Hogwarts." Henry nodded.

"We know she lives in town," Elizabeth added, "but that's about it, Henry."

"So what, exactly," Henry asked somewhat despairingly, "makes you all so certain that this person is my girlfriend or even a 'she'?"

At this Elizabeth grinned smugly.

"Because, a) you've been spending an unusual amount of time with her, b) you keep coming up with Muggle jokes that only mum gets and c) whenever we bring her up, you look totally smitten." She marked the points on her fingers as she went along. Sarah giggled, and Henry decided to concede to this.

"Fine, okay," he said. "But still, how does that prove they're a woman?" Roberta made an 'I'm stating the obvious' face.

"Because you fancy her!"

"But how does that prove –"

"Because you're straight!"

There was a tiny pause. Henry saw his parents eyes flick immediately to his face.

"Um, actually I'm not…"

The entire kitchen went silent for a few seconds. Then Roberta spoke.

"Henry, are you gay?" she asked, as if something had suddenly made sense. Henry bit back a sarcastic retort.

"Yeah," he said simply.

"Okay," his elder sister said, clearly rather at a loss.

"Okay?" Henry looked around. His brother Matt had spoken.

"Okay?" he said again. "Are you _joking_? This is fantastic, I'm never going to get another sister again, in-law or otherwise!" The tension was broken and the whole kitchen exploded with laughter. Elizabeth threw a wooden spoon at him which he ducked, sniggering. Henry smiled gratefully at his brother.

"So hang on a second…" Elizabeth said. "You don't have a mysterious girlfriend."

"No," said Henry, shaking his head, laughter in his eyes.

"You have a mysterious _boy_friend?"

"Yep," Henry nodded.

"Right," said Elizabeth, recovering from her surprise masterfully, "then you can tell us all about him instead!"

The laughter redoubled, and for a minute or so it was all that anyone could manage. Then Henry pulled himself together.

"Okay, okay," he said, "what do you want to know?"

"What's his name?" Roberta asked immediately.

"Joe," Henry said, smiling. Elizabeth pointed at him accusingly.

"See, smitten! I said it, didn't I?" she said teasingly. Henry ducked his head, feeling his ears get hot, but he was happy with the way they had all taken it.

"How old is he?" Matthew asked.

"Same age as me – well, a couple of months older," Henry said. His sisters were looking at him expectantly, and he raised his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked.

"Well?" Elizabeth replied. Henry thought for a moment – no, he really did not know what they were waiting for.

"What?" he asked again.

"What's he like? Where did you meet, how does he know about the wizarding world, what does he look like?" His sister practically exploded with impatience. Henry laughed, and then caught a glance at the clock. _Half-past six, thank Merlin_.

"You'll have to wait for a while, Beth," he said, earning a scowl for abbreviating her name, "I'm going out."

"With Joe?" Sarah asked.

"Yep."

And with that, he disappeared out of the door, ignoring his siblings' curiosity with a grin and a wave through the kitchen window before Apparating away.

x

July 2021

Two weeks later, and everyone had been at the Burrow since four o'clock, putting out plates, helping Nana Weasley with the food, and putting up the big marquee in the garden. It was now approaching half-past six, and the guests were gradually arriving. Henry stuck his head into the living room.

"Mum, I'm just going to pick Joe up, I'll be back in a bit," he said. Hermione nodded, and he went outside into the warm summer air to Apparate.

He arrived with a _snap_ in the narrow gap between two houses. After looking around carefully, he walked out of one end, crossed the road, and then approached one of the houses on the other side, number six. He knocked on the door. After a moment, he heard footsteps, and then the door was opened. Jessica Threllar stood in the doorway.

"Hello Henry, sweetheart," she said, smiling, "come on in. He's upstairs. Joe?" This last word she called up the stairs. It elicited a muffled response which sounded like "just a minute!" Henry laughed.

"So slow, Harts!" he called back. He heard the door swing open and Joe appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning.

"Hardly," he said, as he came down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he greeted Henry with a quick kiss, and for a moment they just smiled at each other.

"Ready to go, then?" Henry asked. Joe nodded.

"Mum, I'll be back late," he called over his shoulder to the living room.

"Okay – have a nice time," his mother replied.

They left the house and closed the door behind them.

It was warm out and not yet very dark. They walked for about five minutes in companionable silence – after the first minute, Joe's hand somehow found its way into Henry's. When they had reached a spot that seemed not to be overlooked, Joe took Henry's arm more firmly as Henry turned on the spot and vanished, taking Joe with him.

x

Elizabeth was getting a glass of water when she spotted her mother.

"Mum, have you seen Henry around?" she asked.

"I think he went to pick up Joe," Hermione said, smiling at the suddenly curious expression on her daughter's face. "He should be back in a few minutes," she continued, "make sure you're not too nosy, Elizabeth." But her last words were lost as Elizabeth turned and left the kitchen. Hermione shook her head, suppressing a laugh. She had to admit, she was very curious about Henry's boyfriend. Of course she and Ron had known about him long before the others, but they had never met him. Henry tended to meet him in the town, and then come back alone. She was just wondering how long they would be when she heard a squeal and a giggle from the hall. She went outside to investigate.

Eleanor, Elizabeth and several of their cousins were standing in the hall, gossiping; from what Hermione could make out, they were trying to guess things about Henry's boyfriend. Their predictions were halted abruptly, however, as the younger Molly Weasley arrived in their midst.

"I've seen him!" she pronounced dramatically. The others gathered around, pestering her for more information.

"What's he like?"

"Was he with Henry?"

"Where did you see him?"

"Alright, alright," Molly said sheepishly, "I only saw two people walking up the lane hand in hand – and one of them looked like it might've been Henry. But it was too dark to really see."

Hermione laughed.

"Well, I think the lot of you can either go outside and socialise, or you can come into the kitchen and help me and your grandmother with the food," she said, knowing the answer. Sure enough, the group trooped out of the hall and towards the garden. Hermione returned to the kitchen.

x

A few minutes later, everyone was outside enjoying the pleasant summer evening. The marquee sheltered two long tables covered with fruit, bread, cold meats, sweets, sugary treats, and every other so-called 'nibbleable' food that the elder Molly Weasley had been able to concoct. There were little candles hanging from all the trees and ranged along the windowsills of the house, and the air was filled with talk and laughter. But on the other side of the house, where all was quiet, two young men stood, about to enter. One was tall and still a little gangly, his flaming red hair sweeping neatly and conservatively behind his ears. The other was about average height, with dark brown eyes and lightly freckled skin, his dark brown hair slightly longer than normal reaching perhaps an inch below the bottom of his ears and meeting the collar of his smart, dark blue shirt.

Henry had taken one step towards the door and paused. His companion took a step closer, placing his hand on Henry's shoulder.

"Nervous?" Joe asked softly. Henry nodded.

"A bit. I'm not as brave as you," he said, looking a little ashamed. Joe paused for a moment, and then moved to stand in front of Henry. He waited until Henry met his eyes.

"I think you're as brave as anyone," he said, and kissed him. They separated several seconds later.

"Was that for luck?" Henry asked, sounding slightly younger, somehow. Joe's eyes sparkled with laughter and delight, loving the effect that he had had.

"Yep," he said, taking Henry's hand. "And it worked. Come on, let's go." And with that the two of them pushed open the door, and entered.

x

When they got to the garden, they were no longer holding hands. Joe bit back a grin; he knew Henry was still fairly shy about the two of them, and he didn't mind. In fact, he thought that it was quite sweet, but had decided Henry probably wouldn't take this as a compliment, and so had not told him. However, he did not have time to give this any more thought, because they had been noticed. There was no other way to really describe it, Joe thought – no one had exactly stopped and stared, but Henry was getting several "well, introduce me," expressions.

"Um, everyone, this is Joe," Henry said quietly. Joe nodded in greeting. 'Everyone' appeared to consist of the maybe ten people in their immediate vicinity.

"Joe, this is my middle sister Elizabeth," Henry said, gesturing to a pretty, curly-haired girl, "younger brother Matthew, cousins Gideon and Fabian," a pair of twins, "don't bother trying to tell them apart, my cousin Oliver," a bespectacled young man a couple of years older than Henry, who gave Joe a friendly nod, "and of course you know Sarah." The latter, a young girl as red-haired as the others, had been staring at Joe open-mouthed for almost a whole minute. Joe struggled not to laugh.

"Yeah, I know Sarah," he said.

"It's you!" she said, "but you're – you're –" for a moment she struggled for words. Then she turned to her brother.

"Henry, you're going out with my best friend's older brother!" she exclaimed, looking almost comically indignant. Henry laughed.

"Technically, you've become best friends with my boyfriend's younger sister," he said, "if we're going to argue about who got there first." This got a laugh from everyone, Sarah included.

"But you're Vicky's older brother, right?" she said moments later. "I've seen you at the train station picking her up!"

"Yep, that's me," Joe said, nodding.

"But Vicky never said anything…" Sarah said, looking a little confused. Joe took pity on her.

"Vicky's only seen Henry around once or twice, and when she worked out he was your older brother she asked me if she should say anything." He shrugged. "I said Henry hadn't really come out yet, so although it was up to her maybe she should let him do that in his own time." Sarah looked appeased by this, understanding the reasoning behind it.

"When did you two start going out, then?" Elizabeth asked. "Henry's been characteristically mysterious about it." She gave her brother a hard look. Henry looked at Joe.

"Easter… not last Easter, the Easter before that," Henry explained. "You know I went to do some language courses in the town?"

The others nodded. Henry had always got his best grades in Ancient Runes, and he had seen some short courses in Ancient Egyptian and Greek during the holidays and asked his parents for that to be a birthday present.

"Well," Joe said, picking up where Henry had left off, "I was working part time in the shop across the road, and Henry kept turning up to get his lunch. Even not at lunchtime, after a while…" Joe pulled a mock-puzzled face, and everyone laughed again. Henry looked a little bashful, but grinned.

"What?" he said, shrugging. "I couldn't think of a better excuse to come and talk to you!"

The party was one of the best Joe had ever been to, and Henry's whole family were friendly and welcoming. He spent most of the first half an hour talking with Henry's eldest sister, Roberta, because Henry had to disappear briefly to help his dad with something.

"So, I know Vicky's at Hogwarts, but I'm guessing the rest of your family are muggles?"

Joe nodded.

"More or less," he replied. "We think Gary – that's Vicky's little brother – might get a Hogwarts letter in a year or two, because the same odd stuff happens around him like it did around Vicky." Joe grinned.

"But not you, then. That's odd, because siblings tend to be pretty similar…" Roberta sounded curious, but she was polite enough that Joe knew she wouldn't press him for an answer. He shrugged.

"Well, I'm not technically related to Gary or Vicky," he began, explaining when he saw her confusion. "Basically, their parents got married and had them, then divorced; my mum married my dad and had me and then they split up; and now my mum and their dad, Graham, are a couple." Roberta nodded in comprehension.

"That's pretty much our family," Joe finished. "It's not as huge and extended as yours and Henry's," he laughed, "but it's still complicated."

Roberta laughed too.

"Yeah, our family is huge," she agreed. "So it's just you and your mum and your step-family, then?"

"Pretty much," Joe answered. "Well, Vicky and Gary have their mum and all of her family, but I don't really know them, so the only other people I've got are my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Will, and their kids."

"Your cousins? Do you know them at all? I know some people think it's weird that all of us lot," here she gestured to the crowd of cousins, "know each other so well."

"I sort of know Sephy," Joe said, "but I know Casper really well. He lives up in London now, but we're still in touch, which is great."

Everyone seemed to have something cheerful or pleasant to say, and the food was amazing. But eventually, at around half-past twelve, people started to trickle home. At around a quarter to one, Joe and Henry were with a few others, lying on their backs in the grass looking up at the stars, when Joe reached over for Henry's hand and gave it a squeeze. Henry turned his head to look at him.

"Do you have to go now?" he asked softly.

"Don't have to, but probably should," Joe said, regretfully. "I've had a really great time, though."

Henry smiled.

After a moment's star-gazing more, the two of them got slowly to their feet, padded softly back to the house and said their goodbyes, Joe thanking them for having him. Then Henry took him home.

"See you tomorrow?"

"In the afternoon, though," Joe said, yawning. "Definitely not 'til the afternoon."

"Because you won't be out of bed until then?" Henry asked, eyebrows raised. They were standing on the doorstep of number six together.

"Yep. I will be completely and utterly dead to the world," said Joe, smiling sleepily. He reached up to give his boyfriend a goodnight kiss, and a few moments later he unlocked the door and quietly slipped into the house. Henry walked a little further away so that the noise of Apparition wouldn't wake them up, before he returned to Puddles and went to bed.


	6. Transition

November 2022

"Hi Joe," Elizabeth said. The others looked around. Joe had entered with Henry.

"What, not even a hello for me?" Henry asked teasingly. Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him.

The others greeted the two of them and they sat down, squashing Elizabeth on the sofa in retribution.

A few minutes later the rest of the Potters arrived, via floo network. Hermione got everyone seated at the table, and then she and Harry brought out the food.

Over the meal – which everyone seemed to be enjoying – Ron spoke up.

"Eddie, Harry said you're thinking about going to Muggle university," he said.

Eddie nodded shyly from his place between his father and his sister.

"Nottingham, probably," he said quietly.

"What do you want to study?" Joe asked curiously.

"Music," Eddie replied. "There's not really anywhere in the Wizarding world to do it. But it's kind of hard to do – I can get into the course, I'm fairly confident, but it's all the extra stuff."

"Moving out on your own, getting to know people, sorting yourself out," Joe said, nodding in understanding. "I know the feeling. You get the hang of it, though."

Eddie nodded.

"It's mostly fitting in that I'm worried about," he said. "The Integration Holidays group can give me a back story, but it's not like I'll have much in common with the others, except for music."

"And I take it you're going to have to learn to use a computer, and all of that stuff?" Joe asked. Eddie nodded.

"We're not sure where to go for that," Harry said. "Me and Hermione were brought up Muggle, but we left aged eleven – and things have changed a lot since then."

Joe swallowed his piece of potato thoughtfully.

"I could teach you," he said directly to Eddie. The sixteen-year-old looked surprised.

"Really?" he asked. Joe nodded.

"No problem," he said. "Computers, phones, iPods, a bit of popular culture – easy peasy. Take a bit of time, but you've got a year or so."

Eddie looked delighted now.

"That'd be brilliant," he grinned. "Thanks, Joe!"

"You're welcome," Joe replied. "It'll be kind of fun for me as well. I get to act like I know everything."

The others at the table laughed.

"Just give me a shout – probably via Henry," he continued. "We can meet up every so often, however you want to do it."

Eddie nodded enthusiastically and the meal continued.

x

September 2024

"Here, Zak, pass us the coke," Adam called from the other end of the table. Zak obliged, but not before pretending to aim the bottle at Adam's head. Amy scowled at him, and he stuck his tongue out.

"Honestly," she said "_boys_." But there was no venom in her voice, and everyone just laughed. Zak reached across the table and helped himself to another slice of pizza. Their little kitchen meant for six was crowded with ten – it was the end of their first week at university and they'd decided to celebrate, so everyone from their flat and five from the one above had got together and ordered pizza. Zak was just biting into his slice when Louise, who was sitting on the windowsill, spoke.

"Heads up, everyone."

"What is it?" Josie asked, moving towards the window.

"People down there with a suitcase and some boxes – looks like you lot are finally getting your sixth flatmate," she said. Zak raised his eyebrows. Room Four in their flat had been empty all of Freshers' Week, and there had been much debate about to whom the uninhabited room belonged.

"Reckon we should go down there and give them a hand?" Adam asked. Louise shook her head.

"Nah, looks like he's alright," she said. "He's getting hugs… and the others are leaving… and he's picking up his suitcase and two boxes. Looks like he'll manage alright, and anyway, are any of us really going to abandon the pizza?" This got another laugh as Sam and Webster both reached for the same piece at the same time. There was a brief and silly tussle as they both tugged at it before it came apart, most of it in Sam's hand, who cheered. Webster threw a plastic fork at him. The group had mostly started talking again when they heard the door open. There were a few footsteps, and the sound of someone dragging something heavy, and then the kitchen door swung open a little way and the new boy stuck his head through the gap.

"Hey," he said, smiling cautiously.

"Come in!" Zak grinned. "You our mysterious Room Four, then?"

The boy squeezed through the doorway – he couldn't open it all the way, as there wasn't enough space. But he managed it, and Jake and Holly moved along so there was room for him to perch on the sideboard.

"Yep, that would be me," he said, nodding. "I'm Eddie."

"Jake."

"Holly."

"Louise."

"I'm Amy – this is Adam, this is Sam and _that_," Amy continued, gesturing to Webster who now had a plastic fork stuck in his hair, "is Webster."

"Emilia."

"Josie."

"Zak the Obnoxious," Zak said, giving a carefully calculated grin and watching for a reaction. Eddie just gave a short laugh, and nodded.

"I'll try and remember them all," he said.

"How come you're a week late, Eddie?" Louise asked, hand checking her hair subconsciously. Zak glanced at her, and then had a quick look at the other girls in the room. Their attention was almost entirely on Eddie. _Eye candy, is he, girls?_ Zak thought, amused. _And Jake_, he added, spotting the carefully observant expression of his fellow student. The newcomer was striking enough, he supposed – almost unnaturally pale skin and scruffy, jet-black hair. He was short, too – make that very short, Zak realised – as he sat balanced on the edge of the sideboard, his feet were a good foot from the floor.

"I've been ill – nasty bit of flu," Eddie said, and then laughed when Jake recoiled from him jokingly. "Don't worry, I'm not contagious now – but I was told I had to stay at home until I got better." He shrugged.

"That's got to be a record," Zak suggested, "freshers' flu before you even get here!" It wasn't a great joke, he knew, but it got a laugh, and slowly everyone went back to chatting.

"Pizza, Eddie?" Emilia asked. His face lit up.

"If you lot don't mind? I didn't exactly pitch in for it…" he said

"No worries," said Webster, "scrounging off others is what student life is all about." Eddie laughed again, and took a piece out of the box being offered to him.

"Thanks," he said to Emilia, as she took the box back. She grinned, and Zak bit back a laugh. Eddie clearly had no idea of the reaction he was getting, which wiped out any natural feelings of jealousy he might have had of such attention.

About an hour later, Amy was chiding them all into tidying up.

"You won't want to do it in the morning, guys," she said.

"Yes, mum," Zak quipped, and the others sniggered as Amy pretended to get him around the head with the empty pizza box she was holding. When everything was reasonably tidy, Jake, Sam, Webster, Holly and Josie trooped back upstairs.

"Is there only five of them upstairs?" Eddie asked. Zak shook his head. "Nah, there's Henrietta too, but she's got freshers' flu, so apparently they left her asleep earlier."

Eddie nodded.

"Fair enough."

They left the kitchen and switched the light off. Zak helped Eddie drag his suitcase and two boxes into his room.

"You haven't brought much," Zak commented. One box seemed to have bed linen in it, but the other had a lid so Zak couldn't see what was inside.

"Well, I wasn't really sure what I'd want, apart from the obvious. My sister's coming up in a week or so, so I'm going to ask her to bring anything else up then." Eddie grinned. "That is, if I can persuade her to do anything helpful for me – I may have to bribe her with chocolate."

Zak laughed.

"Well, I'll leave you to unpack then. See you in the morning?"

"Yeah – what course are you doing?" Eddie asked.

"Music. Same as Amy, Adam and Emilia, and Webster, Sam and Henrietta upstairs," he said. "I think they decided to lump us all together. What are you doing?"

"Music," Eddie grinned. "Do we have anything tomorrow morning?"

"Not anything in the morning, but there's some kind of meet and greet on campus at two – we were all gonna walk up there together. You in?"

"Yep, thanks. See you tomorrow, then."

"'Night, Ed."

"Goodnight."

x

Eddie woke up the next morning in something of a panic. Where were the red hangings of his bed in the Gryffindor dorms, why was the door on his right as he lay in bed and not on his left, why was everything so different? Then his memories caught up with his sleep-addled brain and he forced himself to relax. There was nothing to worry about. This was his new room, his new home. University. Student accommodation. Eddie sat up as his breathing slowed, and pulled his blanket around him to look around his room in the light. He hadn't had much of a chance the night before.

This room was much smaller than his room at home, which was to be expected. It was rectangular, and the head of the bed was about two feet to the left of the door. In between bed and door was a little bedside table. At the foot of the bed was the left hand side of a desk that reached to the furthest wall from the door. Under the desk and part of it was a chest of drawers; above the desk were shelves. There were two chairs at the desk, one lower than the other. Eddie could see that if you sat at the desk you would be able to look out of the window. The other side of the window to the desk was taken up by a sink with a mirror above it, and a wardrobe next to that. All of the furniture was simple and functional, and Eddie decided that he liked it. A good thing really, seeing as he was about to spend a year living with it. Getting out of bed and pulling on his dressing gown, he wandered out into the kitchen with his bread to make some toast for breakfast. Hopefully someone would have a toaster.

x

The discussion was quiet, the tone casual, just in case anyone could overhear.

"How much protection will the boy have there?"

"Hard to tell. His father is irritatingly subtle. But minimal, I think, compared to their home – and that was easily penetrated, wasn't it?"

"I'd hardly say _easily_, Os –"

"Don't use that name, idiot."

"Sorry."

There was a pause. Then the shorter man's superior spoke again.

"Never mind sorry. Have you installed the device yet, got it working?"

"We're trying, but it's nearly impossible to understand without the papers."

The taller man sighed.

"Then steal the papers," he said, as though stating the blindingly obvious.

"We're – we're not sure –"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, do I have to do everything around here? Look, get hold of the papers you need, and I'll cover it up. Get on with it. I want to hear good news next time we speak."

The shorter man was left standing awkwardly as his taller companion stalked away down the street. Sighing, he made his way towards a nearby telephone box and stepped inside.

He dialled, and a voice was heard inside the box.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

The short man took a breath, and began another lie.


	7. Shocks

A/N: Firstly, thank you everyone for the supportive reviews! I've had a few comments (here and elsewhere) mentioning that it's kind of confusing, that there are a lot of new names, and that things are taking a while to get going. I'm really glad people have brought this up, as I've been working on it so long that it's hard for me to see. I'm currently working on a version of the family tree that I can share with everyone, which might aid in any character confusion; other than that, if anyone has any suggestions on how I can clarify or improve, I would very much appreciate them! Thanks – HK.

x

September 2024

By the end of the week, Zak had learnt very little more about Eddie – and by the sound of it, neither had anyone else. He was quiet, polite and friendly, and although he rarely turned down an invitation to go out with the others during the daytime, he otherwise stuck to his room. Not that Zak had been like the girls, giggling and wondering about him – but he had to admit, he was intrigued. He couldn't work out why – maybe that _was_ why? Eddie seemed to unintentionally (Zak was sure it was unintentional, Eddie didn't seem aware of it) give out this aura of quiet mystery, of iceberg-like personality, but try as he might Zak couldn't figure out how or why it was so interesting.

But on that Friday, they had their first proper seminar – before this had mostly been introductory talks and handing out information. Friday's lecture was for the module 'Listening to Tonal Music', and so, heaving a notebook, pen and the annoyingly large anthology of music with him, Zak joined the others as they made their way to campus.

When they had settled into seats about half-way back, they only had a few minutes to wait, looking around them. This lecture theatre was clearly also used for performance, as there was a grand piano open on one side of the space in front of the first row. Their lecturer, who they'd met several times already, was kneeling by a mass of electronics in one corner, pressing buttons with a look of intense concentration.

Once everyone appeared to have arrived, he stood up, and began to speak.

"Today we're going to look at some Mozart, everybody. Turn to page four hundred and thirty-two, and we're going to first listen to his _Piano Sonata K.333, First Movement_. While you're listening, I'd like you to jot down as much as you can about what you already know about Mozart, his style, perhaps even about this piece in particular. Also, if you notice anything about the piece that interests you, note that down as well." When he was satisfied that everyone had pen poised over paper, he took a remote control out of his pocket and pointed at the electronics behind him. There was a pause. He pressed the button on the remote again – nothing happened. He went over to the electronics, and fiddled around with it for a minute. Still nothing. He turned back to the rest of the hall.

"Sorry everyone, we've just had a new sound system installed and there have been a few problems. It seems to have swallowed my CD, with no inclination to play it," he said, smiling tiredly, "so unless anyone has some other means of making it work, we'd do better to just go over it without hearing it…" here he paused, somewhat hopefully. No hands were raised. "In that case… oh, sorry, the young man there, I didn't see you."

Zak looked around. Eddie had his hand cautiously raised, and looking apprehensive, said,

"I can play the piece…" His face showed his uncertainty – he clearly wasn't sure where he stood in this situation. The lecturer squinted up at him.

"What's your name, lad?" he asked.

"Eddie Potter," Eddie replied. The lecturer seemed to understand.

"Ah, yes – the scholarship boy, mm?" Eddie nodded, seeming a little embarrassed.

"Yes."

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it, thank you." The lecturer smiled at him, and Eddie, who was on the end of the row, stood and walked down the steps to the front of the room with his music in hand and, after glancing at the lecturer for confirmation, sat at the piano.

Zak glanced across the row at Webster, who raised his eyebrows.

"In your own time," the lecturer said.

Eddie took a breath, put his fingers to the keys, and began to play.

When he had finished, Zak let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. Eddie stood, picked up his music and walked quietly back to his seat. As their lecturer began to speak again, Amy nudged Zak gently in the ribs. He glanced around, and realised everyone looked as stunned as he felt. Sam mouthed "whoa" at him, and he nodded back before realising he was supposed to be making notes. He grabbed his pen and started to note down what the lecturer was saying.

At the end of the lecture, everyone gathered their things together and began to leave. Zak's row was the quietest, and Zak knew why. They were the last out – Eddie was nowhere to be seen, and Zak assumed he'd gone off straight away, but as they left the lecture theatre they found him just outside the door, waiting for them.

"Bloody hell, Ed," said Adam. Zak caught his eye. "That's a compliment," Adam added. The group began wandering back through the building, and Eddie laughed.

"Most people just think I'm showing off," he said. Zak understood.

"I know the feeling," he said.

"Oh yeah, 'Noxious?" said Amy, laughing. "What have you got to show off about?" she teased.

Zak wiggled his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he joked. Amy tossed her hair, pretending to be disgusted.

A few minutes later they reached the block of flats, and everyone went back to their rooms. Zak was just waiting for his laptop to switch on when there was a soft tap on his door.

"Come in," he said. Eddie pushed the door open and leant against the doorframe, looking pensive.

"What's up?" Zak asked him. Eddie looked at him carefully.

"I was just wondering… you said earlier that you know what it's like to have people think you're showing off. Which means you've got to be pretty good at something – exceptional, even," Eddie said, a grin tugging at his lips at the last few words. However, Zak noticed his eyes remained serious, curious. He shifted on his seat and put his feet up on the desk.

"Come in properly, and shut the door," he said, in a melodramatic whisper. He saw Eddie bite back a laugh before complying, coming across the room to lean against the desk, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"Well?" he asked. "What's the great secret?"

Zak grinned.

"Nothing much really. But if I say it to everyone, they all want me to show them…" he trailed off innocently. Eddie put his head on one side and looked at Zak mock-sternly.

"Zak the Obnoxious, I shall leave if this isn't interesting," he said jokingly. Zak laughed.

"It's not. My mum is Czechoslovakian, and my dad is Russian, and I grew up in England," he explained, "so me and my sisters speak all three languages." He shrugged. "I guess that's why I'm pretty good with languages… I did French and German at GCSE, and I've done a Latin course in my spare time."

Eddie nodded.

"I also aced maths and physics at A-level; my parents wanted me to go on and do sciences." Zak shrugged again.

"That covers a lot of ground – science, maths, and languages. So why do music?" Eddie asked curiously. Zak sighed.

"Because I like it – it's more fun than most of the other stuff."

"What did your parents say?"

"Well, I was planning to take a year out anyway, so I spent it teaching drums and helping teach early grades theory to younger kids," he explained.

"To prove to your parents –"

" – that I could make a living out of it, yeah," Zak nodded. Eddie looked like he understood. There was silence for a moment, then Eddie cleared his throat.

"I should probably get back to work – I need to copy up those notes," he said.

"Geek," said Zak, grinning.

"Same to you," Eddie said, grinning back over his shoulder as he left. Reluctantly, Zak turned his attention back to his laptop.

x

By the time it happened, Zak had quite forgotten that he had already been told. They were in the Student Union at about three in the afternoon in a gap between seminars. Eddie, Henrietta, Jake and Josie had gone to get some chocolate from the shop and Zak and the others were waiting for them, when a girl walked into the room.

She was about average height, but she walked quite a lot taller, Zak remembered thinking. Her black hair was loose and flowed down to just below the bottom of her shoulder blades; it contrasted starkly with her pale skin. Later, Zak supposed he should have spotted the resemblance then, but at the time he was rather distracted. He was astounded, but tried valiantly to cover it, when she looked around a few times and then walked over to their table.

Her eyes were beautiful, he realised – at first they looked like a simple hazel colour, but on closer inspection he realised there were flecks of green in them.

It was then that he realised she had spoken. The small part of his mind that wasn't entirely overwhelmed swore graphically in four different languages. What had she said? But he was saved from that embarrassment, because it was Amy who answered.

"Yeah, we do – he went to the shop – he'll be back in a minute."

The girl flashed her a friendly smile.

"Thanks," she said, slipping her hands into her pockets and looking in the direction Amy had nodded. Zak blinked, trying to clear his head. He cleared his throat.

"How come you're looking for Ed?" he asked. He was relieved to hear that his voice came out sounding normal. What was wrong with him? He wasn't normally this nervous around girls – quite the opposite. And this girl looked so familiar…

She had turned to look at him and was about to answer when someone called across the near-empty room.

"Hey, pigtails, you made it!"

Laughing, the girl turned to see Eddie walking across the room, a packet of crisps in each hand. He tossed one at her, and she caught it just before it would have hit her on the head.

"You're still alive then, runt?" she asked teasingly, before taking a few running steps towards him and embracing him. He returned it wholeheartedly. Something suddenly clicked in Zak's head.

"_My sister's coming up in a week or so…"_

Zak bit back a groan. _Please,_ he thought, _please tell me she's not –_

"Guys, this is my sister Esmerelda," Eddie said.

_Bollocks._

"Ezzy," she said, smiling.

"Ez, this is Amy, Jake, Adam, Sam, Webster, Josie, Emilia, Henrietta and Zak," Eddie said, introducing them all one by one. Ezzy nodded a greeting. Zak was heartily thankful that he was used to manufacturing a genuine-looking grin and did so, trying to look casual. The group of them chatted for a while – Ezzy seemed more confident than Eddie – no, maybe just more relaxed in the unfamiliar company than Eddie would have been. Zak was looking from one to the other, trying to work something out, when Josie asked the very question that had been on his mind.

"Can I ask – which one of you is older?" she asked curiously. Eddie and Ezzy looked at each other, and Ezzy answered.

"Well, you can see he's my little brother," she said, which got a laugh – Eddie was several inches shorter than her – "but actually I'm younger."

"Only by fifteen minutes, though" Eddie added.

"You're twins…" Zak realised. He had thought they looked remarkably similar, even for siblings, but this must be why. At exactly – almost exactly – the same age, the similarities common to most siblings were emphasised. It probably helped that they were both wearing dark coloured clothes, too, Zak noted, then realised he was paying far too much attention to this.

"We've got a seminar in about –" Eddie checked his watch " – five minutes. What are you going to do?"

"How long's your seminar?" Ezzy asked.

"Two hours."

Ezzy frowned, thinking.

"I can give you my keys, if you think you can find your way to our flat?" Eddie suggested. Ezzy nodded, and took the proffered keys.

"I reckon I can remember the way," she said, smiling. "Nice to meet you guys," she said as she left. The group made their way to the seminar, chatting, but Zak was quiet.

He finally had a crush on someone, why, why, _why_ did she have to be Eddie's sister?

x

October 2024

It was a Saturday morning, and contrary to every student stereotype, Eddie was awake, dressed and busy working on his laptop. The laptop had been a present from his parents the Christmas before on the condition that he learn how to use it properly; if he was going to go to a muggle university then he needed to be able to fit in. He had then spent every spare moment (when he wasn't at Hogwarts, studying or playing the piano) at Aunt Hermione's house as the two of them tried to work out how to use it. Joe, Henry's boyfriend, had caught them at it one day and took it upon himself to teach Eddie everything he would need to know before going to university, mostly about muggle technology. Joe was at university already, in London, studying psychology. It was his third year this year, and his second year living with Henry who had managed to get an apprenticeship at a translating company in Diagon Alley after Hogwarts. Eddie hadn't seen either of them in a few weeks, but he knew that both of them were planning to come up and see him in the next month if work and university allowed for it.

Eddie reached for his glass of water, but it was empty. He got up, picking up the glass, and headed to the door. He walked out into the corridor. The flat was silent – unsurprising, Eddie presumed that almost everyone else was still asleep. He made his way to the kitchen and opened the door.

"BOO!"

Eddie stumbled backwards, backing into the wall, dropping the glass, his head spinning, heart racing, breathing speeding up frantically.

"Eddie, are you okay?"

Eddie barely heard them. He felt as though his head was spinning, and his heart was going to force its way out of his chest. He closed his eyes, one hand grasping onto the wall.

"Eddie?"

There was a shuffling noise and Eddie flinched away as someone crouched down in front of him, his eyes flying open. It was Zak, who upon seeing Eddie flinch dropped down to sit on the floor properly and moved the side, his hands out and open, reaching for Eddie like you would a frightened child.

"Eddie, are you okay? How can we help?" Zak asked gently. Eddie shook his head, slowing his breathing enough to talk.

"Just – just give me a m-minute."

His request was granted, and the hallway was quiet but for some shuffling feet and a few whispers.

"_Go put the kettle on!"_

"_Why, because I'm the girl? That's not –"_

"_Not because you're a girl, but you're closest. Someone get some tea, hot and sweet -"_

"I'm n-not in shock, y-you know," Eddie managed quietly, giving a little smile. Zak looked around at him, his face sheepish.

"Do you like tea?" he asked. "Because then it still might help, you know, having something you like." He looked so almost comically worried that Eddie nearly laughed despite the state he was in.

"I'm – I'm okay," Eddie said. "Give me a h-hand up?"

Zak reached over and gently helped Eddie to his feet, watching him carefully. Eddie was only standing for a moment before he wobbled, and Zak immediately put his arm around Eddie's back to support him.

"Kitchen?" Zak asked. Eddie nodded.

"Kitchen."

The two of them walked the few feet to the kitchen together, Eddie leaning a little on Zak, his legs shaky but his breathing steady now and his heart calming. Eddie sat down at the kitchen table, surprised at how full the kitchen was. Emilia, Amy, Henrietta and Webster were all waiting in there, watching him with wide eyes. He gave them a smile.

"I'm okay. Seriously." He managed a little bit of a laugh. "I'm just not so good with surprises, for future reference."

"Yeah, we noticed," said Webster, following Eddie into light-heartedness. They all still looked kind of worried, though.

"We're really sorry about that, Eddie," Amy said. She looked the worst-affected of all of them, absolutely stricken. Eddie made sure that his smile was more genuine this time.

"It's okay, really. _Really_."

The others seemed mostly convinced now. The kettle boiled over and Eddie raised his eyebrows.

"So do I still get sympathy tea?" he asked cheekily. The tension broke. Emilia grabbed mugs from the side and everyone helped themselves to tea; Eddie opted for hot squash, which he managed to get passed to him without attracting too much attention. Zak was still watching him closely out of the corner of his eye though, and probably suspected that Eddie's legs were still feeling shaky. But Eddie ignored him for the moment.

"What were you lot trying to do, anyway?" Eddie asked, grinning. Webster replied apologetically.

"We were trying out the Hallowe'en masks we got yesterday," he said, gesturing to a couple of rubber masks on the floor in the corner. "You were the only one who didn't know we were getting them."

"One of those stupid ideas that sounds like a good one at the time," Emilia said. "Are you sure you're okay, Ed? You really freaked."

Glancing around, Eddie realised that he probably wasn't going to be able to continue brushing this off, and so he opted to explain a little bit.

"I have some phobias and some odd issues from a while ago," he said quietly, calmly. "Big shocks are one of the things I don't handle very well." He shrugged. "Sorry if I scared you." He sipped at his squash and let the others turn this over in their minds. Deciding that his legs had probably regained some semblance of strength again, he stood up.

"I'm going to head back to my work, if that's okay," he said casually, picking up his mug of squash and heading towards the door. He managed to get all the way inside his room and put the mug safely down onto the table before he collapsed again, but this time he was expecting it. He supported himself against the desk as he went down, and once he was on the floor leaning against the foot of the bed he reached to pull the blanket off of the bed when there was a knock on the door, and then it creaked open a little way. Zak stuck his head in, saw Eddie on the floor, frozen, and Eddie watched him make a quick decision. He leant out into the hallway and must have mouthed something because Eddie couldn't hear any words, and then he came properly into the room and closed the door. He walked slowly over to where Eddie was and sat down beside him, a few inches between them. There was a pause.

"I used to know a mate who had panic attacks when I was at secondary school," Zak said quietly to the wardrobe. He turned his head to look at Eddie.

"What do you need, Ed?" he asked gently. Eddie swallowed.

"Could – could you help me get the blanket off the b-bed, please?" he asked hesitantly. "I just need to – to wrap up a bit, I get kind of sh-shaky." Zak nodded. There was absolutely no judgement in his expression as he did as asked, only a little concern.

After Eddie had pulled the blanket around himself and managed to bring his mug of hot squash down to the floor without spilling any, the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. It was broken by Zak rummaging in his pocket.

"I forgot," he said, "I brought biscuits." He pulled a slightly crumpled half-packet of custard creams from his coat pocket with a cautious grin at Eddie, who grinned back.

"Sounds good to me," Eddie said. He still sounded a little shaky, but it was much better than before. They shared the biscuits for a few minutes, munching appreciatively.

"It wasn't a panic attack." Eddie said quietly. "It wasn't that bad."

Zak nodded.

"You know way more than me," he said sheepishly, "I just meant – well. I just meant that I knew that you weren't quite right again yet. Thought I'd double-check on you."

"Thanks," Eddie said, and he meant it genuinely.

They sat there for another few minutes before Zak spoke again.

"What are you working on?" he asked, nodding towards the computer. Eddie swallowed the biscuit he was eating.

"Just starting the research for the essay due in a few weeks," he replied. Zak laughed.

"You're well-prepared," he said. Eddie shrugged.

"I don't have much else to do."

Zak seemed to think about this.

"We could watch some DVDs if you like?" he suggested. "I've got six series of Doctor Who in my room…"

Eddie looked curious.

"I've never heard of it."

Zak's eyes went wide.

"You've never heard of Doctor Who."

"Nope."

"Seriously."

"Yep."

The two of them looked at each other.

"I'm going to have to watch some now, aren't I?" Eddie asked, fighting to keep a straight face. Zak nodded.

"It's practically my duty to make sure you do," he said, semi-seriously. "Come on, it's Doctor Who time." Getting to his feet, he practically ran out of the door and came charging back a minute or so later with a pile of box sets, which he dumped on the desk. He sat down in front of Eddie's laptop, a huge grin on his face.

"Right, where shall we start?"


	8. Attack

Three months later, and everyone was packing to go home for Christmas. The entire flat was decorated with tinsel, at Emilia's demand – and Amy had threatened them all with their lives if they should "start mucking about with it". Her flatmates took this threat very seriously – Amy was known to be terrifying when angry, and though it rarely happened, her reputation was fearsome. Zak sometimes wondered whether she just used her reputation as a threat and never really got that angry, but never said it out loud – fair play to her, she'd got everyone strung along. Zak grinned at this thought as he threw socks into his suitcase.

They'd had a great first term. Zak had decided by about the fourth week that he'd been letting everyone off far too easily, and started to prank them all, one by one. He'd gotten Amy with a fake fly he'd secreted halfway into her butter – hence how they knew what her temper was like. Though she had seemed to think it was pretty funny when she was shouting…

He still hadn't managed to get Eddie, though. He'd gotten pretty close on several occasions, but Eddie always seemed to slip away, normally leaving the results on Zak's head. Zak and he finally agreed to a truce the week after Hallowe'en, when Zak's intricate plot had been entirely turned on him. Zak was yet to figure out how Eddie had managed that; he refused to explain, saying Zak could work it out for himself.

Zak shook his head. Maybe he'd figure it out over the Christmas break. Mind you, he was heading back to London; he didn't expect to have any time to think between his mother's endless fussing, his sisters' chattering and expecting him to remember everything and everyone they'd ever met, and his father testing his Russian. _Maybe not, then._

The time came when people began to leave. Amy was picked up by her parents, but almost everyone else walked to the train station together. When they got there, there were a good few hugs before everyone went off to find their own platforms. Eddie ended up on the same one as Zak, who looked at him, puzzled.

"Heading to London?" he asked. Eddie nodded.

"Yep," he said.

"But I thought you lived in some little village…?"

Eddie laughed.

"Yeah, I do, but my mum works in London and my sister's got an audition there today, so I'm going that way, meeting them there and then we'll head home tonight."

Zak nodded.

"What time have you got?"

"Twelve forty-two."

"Same."

They both glanced at the clock, which told them it was only fifteen minutes past twelve. Zak sighed and sat down on his suitcase. Eddie looked down at him, raising his eyebrows, then grinned and sat down on the floor next to him, cross-legged.

"You could sit on your case."

"It's squishy, not hard, though," Eddie said.

"So?"

"It has my laptop in it."

"Good point."

They sat in companionable silence until the train came. When they got on, Zak managed to swap his booked seat with a very austere-looking business woman so that he and Eddie could sit together. They spent most of the ride home joking and laughing, and when it came to going their separate ways, Zak realised he was going to miss this, over Christmas. But he shrugged the thought off – he'd see all his friends in a few weeks, after all.

x

"Eddie!"

Eddie looked around, his height making it near-impossible to see beyond the people immediately around him in the crowded train station.

"Eddie, on your left!"

Eddie turned left, thought about it, then turned right, and saw his sister standing on the end of one of the benches, waving at him, a huge smile spread across her face. He made his way over to her, pulling his suitcase behind him.

"Don't you mean _your_ left?" he asked teasingly. Ezzy barely took the time to roll her eyes before she pulled him into a tight hug.

"It's been ages since we've seen you!" she exclaimed, pulling him away towards the station exit. "Mum's waiting just outside, it was so crowded in here we thought it'd be better if I came and found you on my own."

Eddie grinned; his sister's enthusiasm was contagious.

"How did your audition go?" he asked.

"Great!" she answered. "Well, obviously I don't know for certain for a few weeks, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were people better than me – but it went really well for what it was…"

At that point they reached the exit to the pavement, and then Ginny was there.

"Harry's meeting us for lunch in about half an hour – oh, it's good to see you sweetheart!"

They found a quiet corner where Ginny shrunk Eddie's suitcase so that she could put it in her handbag.

"Missed magic much?" Ezzy asked, smiling.

"Not really," Eddie shrugged. "I never used it a lot. It's weird not getting bombarded by Weasley cousins every five minutes though!"

Ezzy laughed.

"You seemed to be getting on pretty well with your housemates, from what Esmerelda said," Ginny said. "What are they like?"

Eddie was about to answer, but they had obviously just reached the café they had been heading towards, because leaning against the wall next to it was Eddie's father.

"Dad!" Eddie called. Harry looked around, breaking into a wide smile when he saw his son.

"Dad, you're early!" Eddie exclaimed as he reached him. Harry shrugged.

"I had the time. And there was no sense in keeping you waiting, it's been far too long since we've seen you!" He smiled again, and the four of them went inside. As they sat chatting at the table waiting for first the waitress and then their order, Harry looked Eddie over carefully. He seemed to be fine – better, even. Esmerelda had said that when she had visited him he had seemed brighter than usual, but Harry had wondered if that was not just because he was glad to see his sister. However, looking at him now… Eddie would always be thin and pale, but today he shone with more energy than Harry had before seen. He was talking almost to match his sister, describing people and places and events with the delight of a small child describing their first day at school. Harry realised that he couldn't stop smiling. He leant in and joined the conversation which carried on well through their meal and all the way home.

x

Because of various work and university commitments, it was not until the second semester that Joe and Henry got in touch and asked Eddie when they could come up and see him. The three set a date, and it was the first weekend of March when they arrived on a blustery Saturday morning. It was around midday and they were laughing over coffee in the kitchen when something happened that no one could have predicted. The door swung open; the three of them didn't really notice until someone spoke.

"Well, well, well," Zak said, a delighted grin spreading across his face. "Small world, Joe Harts!"

Joe turned around.

"Zak?"

"Joe!"

Joe, stunned and at a loss for words, could think of nothing better in reply than,

"…Zak!?"

Zak laughed, and Joe, seeing Henry's stunned expression, was soon laughing too.

"Hang on, hang on, wait a minute," Henry interrupted, "you two know each other?" He looked entirely bewildered.

"Know each other?" Joe asked. "_Know_ each other? We were best friends all the way through school, until he –" he pointed a mockingly accusing finger at Zak "– moved to London!"

"Seriously?" Henry asked. "Eddie, did you know about…" He gave up attempting to ask Eddie, as the younger man was leaning against the wall, laughing so hard that he could barely keep upright.

Eventually Eddie managed to string together a sentence.

"You two are the biggest geeks on the planet," he said, still laughing a little bit. "I don't know why I thought you didn't know each other!"

Zak shrugged.

"What can I say, us geeks got to stick together," he grinned. "But in all seriousness – what are you doing here and how do you know Ed?" he asked Joe, who laughed again.

"Zak, Henry, Henry, Zak. Henry's my boyfriend, of around four years now?" The last part of his introduction was directed towards Henry himself. The tall red-head gave a warm smile.

"Four years in May," he said quietly, meeting Joe's eyes for a second. "It's good to meet you, Zak –" he nodded at him "- I'm assuming you're the Zak that Joe talks about every so often?"

"I don't know," said Zak. "Am I, Joe?"

Joe looked him up and down with raised eyebrows.

"Yep," he pronounced. "Definitely."

Zak laughed again at this.

"It's nice to meet you too, Henry," he said, "but I still don't get how…" he looked at Eddie questioningly, who answered.

"Henry's my cousin, Zak."

Zak looked taken aback, but not at all displeased.

"So," he said, turning back to Joe, "you're dating my housemate's cousin?"

Joe gave this a moment's thought, then nodded.

"Yep," he said again. Zak shrugged, grinning.

"Fair enough!"

The three of them spent the next hour or so chatting in the kitchen, until Henry pointed out that Eddie hadn't given them a tour of the flat yet. Zak took this as his cue to leave and go back to his own room – not because he wasn't enjoying seeing Joe for the first time in years, but because he had noticed that Eddie had gone quieter after a while, and Henry seemed to be worrying about him. Zak decided that he should probably leave them alone to talk about whatever the issue was. He heard them move around the flat for a minute or two before they entered Eddie's room, the door closing behind them and staying closed.

Zak's room was directly next to Eddie's, and so although he couldn't make out exact words, the tones of the muffled voices coming through the wall were fairly clear. One sounded slightly softer and slower than the other two; probably Henry. His voice sounded coaxing, and he seemed to be talking to someone – presumably Eddie – who wasn't giving him much in the way of response. Zak brought up his notes from the last seminar on his computer, determined not to eavesdrop, but still straining to hear anything that he could for a minute before he realised what he was doing. Shaking his head, he turned on his music and turned the brought up the volume until he couldn't hear anything from next door.

He had only just begun to focus properly on his notes when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in," he said, looking around. The door squeaked open a little way and Joe stuck his head in.

"Hello," Joe said, with a sheepish grin. "Henry and Ed are having a brotherly – well, cousinly – chat. I think Ed's just not been writing home as much as he should, and he's making his parents worry, nothing serious. Anyway, I thought I'd come in here instead. You can kick me out if you like."

Zak grinned.

"Nah, it's okay." He gestured to the seat next to his. "Come on, we need to swap emails anyway. I'm not losing touch again, it was boring last time!"

Joe laughed and leaned in to see the computer screen properly as Zak brought up his e-mail account.

Life carried on – Zak and Joe stayed in touch, and met up a couple of times in the summer holidays, sometimes with Eddie or Henry in tow. Eddie and Zak's first year at university seemed to have gone well; for their second year they had to move out of student accommodation, and so they bunched together with Amy and Adam and Henrietta to share a house not far from campus, which seemed to go fairly smoothly.

Marks and grades started to count towards their degree in the second year, so work was more intense and the whole house alternated between silent studying and noisy tension-breaking. Upon discovering that Eddie had never seen any Disney films, the others spent a weekend working through all of the ones that they could get their hands on, and by Christmas Eddie would hum the tunes around the house, all mixed up in whatever piece they were supposed to be studying for their course.

They came back in the springtime; Joe and Henry came to visit again. Joe had finished his BA now and had moved on to his master's in psychology. He was still working at the instrument repair shop that he had been since his second semester of university, and thinking of going on to work there full time despite his psychology degree.

"I love the shrinkology stuff," he said to Zak and Eddie as they wandered through the city centre with Henry, "but I don't know if I'd do it for a living. I'd happily keep studying it though!"

"Just keep it up," Zak joked, "you could just stay at uni until you get too old to stay awake in lectures."

"You can talk," Joe teased back. "You're the only person I know who genuinely agrees with the phrase 'learning is fun'." Eddie laughed. Zak did have a habit of taking up other hobbies. Short, two-week language courses; "Idiot's Guides" to random topics; whatever he could find. Sometimes Eddie thought that it was amazing Zak had ever managed to choose one subject to study at university.

x

A few weeks later they were sitting in a rehearsal room on the second floor, when they heard the shrieking, coming from the other side of the opposite building. Zak looked up from his work and caught Amy's eye, who shrugged.

The shrieks turned into screams. Sam stood up, putting his music to one side, but before he reached the window there was a sound.

A bang.

A _gunshot._

The room froze, everyone waiting for someone else to suggest the joke, to break the silence. But no one had to; it was broken by two more gunshots, and more screams from outside. Zak stood, and walked past Sam to the window, looking out. Amy started to speak.

"Zak, what's going on, can you see –"

_BANG!_

The gunshot was much louder now; Emilia turned just in time to see the glass of the window shatter and Zak drop to the ground. There was another shot.

"Get down!" someone shouted. Everyone got or fell to the floor.

Silence.

Several seconds passed. No one moved. Then –

"Zak?" Adam whispered from his place on the floor. "Zak, are you okay?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah," Zak's voice came back, shaking. "Yeah, I'm alright." He started to crawl along the floor, away from the window.

"Careful," Emilia whispered, "mind the glass."

"Yeah."

They all moved now, slowly, terrified of making too much noise. Eventually they were all on one side of the room, closer to the door than the window. Zak was last. His eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. There were little cuts all over his face and neck, but they weren't deep – what was more frightening were the tiny shards of glass you could see glinting all over his neck and back.

"Here," Webster said. He'd reached for the first aid kit from the cupboard by the door, and was holding it out, looking uncertain.

"What do we do?" Sam asked. No one answered.

"Water."

"What?"

The others turned. It was Eddie who had spoken. He looked scared, but in control.

"You need water to rinse the glass out. Trying to pick it out can do more damage, though it doesn't look deep," he said. The group looked around the room almost as one.

"There's no tap," Henrietta said.

"There's the toilets down the corridor," Adam ventured.

"Zak?" Amy said. "Zak, you okay?"

Zak took a deep breath, his eyes slowly becoming less wide, and he seemed to relax a little. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Just having a hard time not freaking out," he said, giving a slightly scared smile. "I'll be alright."

The eight of them had just got carefully to their feet – Zak trying not to move too much – and were about to walk to the toilets to help Zak with the glass, when they heard a door swing open at the end of the corridor. Then there were slow, steady footsteps along the corridor.

Zak felt his mouth go dry.

"_Shit_," he heard someone behind him mutter. Adam. The footsteps stopped; there was another pause. Then, again, the footsteps… considered, controlled, one after the other. Coming closer to the door.

Whoever it was stopped again. Just outside the door. They knew someone was standing there – they could see that the light from the corridor that normally shone under the door was being blocked in two places. Two feet. Someone standing, right outside the door.

And then, slowly, the door handle began to turn.

Looking back, Zak would never understand why none of them started trying to barricade the door, but it didn't even seem like an option at the time. At the time, Zak couldn't take his eyes off of the door handle, which reached its utmost before stopping.

Another heart-stopping pause. Zak could almost hear everyone praying that the person outside would think this room was empty. He wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculous terror that held him standing deadly still, too scared to move.

Then the door slammed open.


	9. Defence

It was half-past three in the morning. Zak lay on his back in his bed, completely awake, gazing at the ceiling, trying to think.

"_Please, don't –"_

Zak rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, trying to relax. He ran his hands through his hair and gently felt the back of his neck again.

Smooth skin.

When they'd finally got back to the flat at half past ten, Zak had collapsed into bed and fallen straight asleep, exhausted. But now he lay awake. There was too much in his head, he thought, too many things to think about. It was a fascinating as it was exhausting. And Eddie… quiet, unassuming, friendly Eddie…

It was impossible to fit in your head, Zak felt. However he turned it, it just wouldn't quite work. _Does that mean the idea is the wrong shape or my head is?_ he wondered absent-mindedly, his eyes wearily following the patterns of light that the streetlamp outside the window threw onto the ceiling.

And how did this even begin to become normal? How would the eight of them behave now; no wait – how would the seven of them behave – after what they'd seen?

x

The door slammed open.

A young man stepped into the room; he must have been around eighteen or nineteen. He was carrying a gun, which he raised in their direction.

"Please, don't –" Emilia said, but fell silent sharply as he took a step forward, his face oddly blank.

There was a sharp click as he moved his fingers over the metal of the weapon. Zak could feel the hysteria he'd fought down when the glass had broken welling up inside him again. Ridiculous, impossible, that that one thing could make you – stop, die, finish, just like that. It looked so absurdly ordinary, but the sight evoked a menacing coldness that spread right through your skin. Zak barely registered when Eddie took a step forward.

"Hey," Eddie said. A greeting. Calm, accepting; not quite comforting, but somehow reassuring. The man turned and looked at him. Eddie met his eyes carefully.

"I'm Eddie. What's your name?" he asked. Again, his tone was perfectly judged, Zak realised. It didn't interrupt, didn't intrude, and above all it didn't mess with the balance of power in the room – but it was clear, and pleasant, and unruffled.

"We were practising. It's funny how things coincide, isn't it?" Eddie continued. The small part of Zak's mind that wasn't running in circles spoke up. What?

"I mean, you never expect a situation to turn on a sixpence like that," said Eddie. He took another small step forward as he spoke, almost casual enough to be attributed to a shift in position for comfort's sake, but it took him closer to the gunman.

"You just hang around, doing nothing out of the ordinary, and then things are different and you look back and realise you didn't see them change." Another step. "It reminds me of when I was a little kid. I learnt all sorts of things that I never thought would be useful at the time. And then I find myself in a situation where they just might be, and you realise how thankful you are." It wasn't what Eddie was saying that mattered, Zak realised. That could be almost anything. It was the soft, almost coaxing tone that he said them in. Underneath what you heard, it said _listen, listen, don't you want to know? Isn't it interesting? And after all, you're in control, you've got the power, you can do what you like – so why not take a moment and listen, listen, listen! Don't you want to know where it'll end?_

Eddie was several feet in front of the rest of them now, Zak realised, slightly to the gunman's left. Not directly in front of him and not close enough to be a threat, but definitely closer. The young man was watching Eddie, watching him closely. They had eye contact and Eddie kept it steadily.

"You end up in the middle of some state of affairs or another, and you think back, and you know what to do and how to do it. It's so reassuring, to know exactly where you stand." He took another step, but something must have been uneven under his feet, because he stumbled forward slightly. The gunman jumped, startled, and swung the gun around until it was pointed directly at Eddie. Zak willed himself not to move an inch, terrified of making it worse.

Eddie had not lost eye contact, and spoke again.

"How impossible some things seem when you're young. How unlikely events appear before you find yourself involved in them. But here we are." He took one step further forward, and Zak forgot to breathe.

The tip of the gun was maybe and inch away from Eddie's chest.

Eddie kept his eye contact with the gunman.

"And events have played out, in so many different ways, on different days and in different places; but this is how things are now, I suppose, and I –"

There was a deafening bang and an explosion of dust Zak fell back a few steps, stunned, blinking furiously, trying to see if –

The dust cleared, and Eddie was still standing. Zak, looking around, struggled to take in –

The gun on the floor on the other side of the room.

The new hole in the ceiling.

The gunman lying on the floor by Eddie, unconscious.

"How – what – what did you do?" Zak stuttered out, bewildered. Eddie looked shaken, his black hair covered in dust. At any other time it would've been funny, Zak's mind told him. It took a few moments before Eddie replied.

"I just knocked the gun up so it fired at the ceiling – he must have tripped and hit his head," he said slowly, breathing hard. Amy ran forward and buried him in a hug.

x

Zak turned onto one side in bed, if only to gaze at the posters on the wall instead of the light on the ceiling. _But you didn't, did you, Eddie?_

If only it had ended there.

x

After a few minutes of shocked relief, they decided to walk Zak to the toilets. Zak looked up when this was mentioned, surprised – he'd almost forgotten about the glass. Before they left the room, Eddie crouched down and took the unconscious man's pulse, then got Adam to help shift him into what Zak recognised as the recovery position. Eddie then stood, walked over to the other side of the room, and picked up the gun. Sam cleared his throat.

"Ed, I'm not sure you should touch that," he said, nervously. Eddie turned and gave him a faint nod.

"I know. Just want to put it out of reach so that he doesn't have it if he wakes up before the heal – the ambulance gets here," he corrected himself. Zak frowned. What had Eddie been about to say?

Webster stepped forward, and put it on top of one of the high cupboards, out of sight and reach of anyone shorter than Webster himself, which meant most of the population. Then, the eight of them left the room, Eddie last, and made their way down the corridor. When they were half-way there, they heard noises on the stairs. More than one person, it sounded like. The students, Amy in the lead, paused, looking at each other.

"Paramedics?" Emilia suggested quietly, uncertainly. The others didn't answer.

The doors to the stairwell swung open. Zak almost burst out laughing for the second inappropriate time in an hour.

Standing several metres away, at the other end of the corridor, were three people. Two men and a woman, Zak guessed, though it wasn't easy to tell from this angle. They all wore… cloaks? Not strictly black, but worn and nondescript, greyed and tired looking clothes that flowed loosely over their figures. Robes?

But it was their faces that really confused Zak. His eyes told him not to look, that there was nothing important there – but when he tried to stare at them, to follow the lines of their faces, he saw… a blur. He could barely see it past his mind screaming at him that there was nothing important to see, that there was nothing to worry about, that this was normal – but it wasn't. He didn't have any more time to contemplate this then, however.

The foremost of the group – a man with… brown hair? It was hard to judge, though Zak wasn't sure why – the man started walking forwards, and the other two followed just behind him, flanking him on either side. They stopped about two metres away from Amy and observed the group in silence. Suddenly, startlingly, the man clapped his hands together and gave a short laugh.

"Well, well, well," he said, and Zak got the impression he was grinning. "It seems we underestimated you." Eddie stepped forward, and it wasn't until Zak looked at him that he really started to feel scared again.

Eddie had gone white. His jaw was clenched and his hands had balled themselves into fists. He looked angry, but also afraid, and that scared Zak more than anything.

"What do you want." It was more of a statement than a question. "What the _hell_ do you want?"

"Now, now," said the man, his right hand sliding inside the outer layer of whatever it was he was wearing and slowly drawing out a slender, carved piece of wood. "Manners, Potter. We came here with a job to do. Now if we've got more loose ends to tidy up than expected," here his eyes flashed across the group of eight, and he shrugged, "then so be it."

At this he raised the wooden thing. It looked oddly familiar, Zak thought, but where would he have seen something like that before?

Eddie was in front of Amy now, standing between the man and his friends, just like he had a few minutes ago. But something was different this time.

"It was you?" Eddie said. "You – you imperiused that kid –" he gestured back over his shoulder, towards the room they had come from, "and now you're here to –"

"To tidy up the loose ends," said the man, repeating himself with a curt nod, "yes. By whatever means necessary."

There was a pause. The man pointed the wooden instrument at Eddie and Zak felt a thrill of foreboding, though he didn't know why; it was just wood, it couldn't do any damage –

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Protego!_"

Both the man and Eddie had shouted at the same time, Zak realised vaguely, most of his mind taken up once more by an impossible sight.

Eddie was standing in front of the other seven of them, holding his own piece of wood like a weapon, projecting some kind of… it looked like a force-field, Zak thought. Some kind of red light had burst from the man's stick and Eddie had _deflected it._

All this thought went past in the blink of an eye, as Eddie shouted over his shoulder.

"You lot! Get out! Stay behind me!"

The urgency in his voice spurred Zak into movement. He grabbed Amy's arm, as she was nearest, and started to run back along the corridor, ignoring the sharp little pains in his neck and back as the glass moved slightly. The others followed them, running hell for leather down the corridor, away from shouts and the impossible flashes of light, but Eddie was still back there –

WHAM! Zak slammed into something face-first and fell back to the ground, not immediately realising what it was he had hit. The others skidded to a halt behind him.

"What the –" Webster said.

It was another shield. Zak turned and looked back. The woman was leaning against the wall almost casually, not far away. She had another piece of carved wood, and it was raised, pointing just behind them. _Another one,_ Zak thought, _like Eddie's_. The woman pointed it at Emilia, who was nearest.

"Emilia! NO! Leave them alone!"

Eddie's voice echoed down the corridor, but he couldn't get any closer to them to help. He and the first man were engaged in what Zak could only call a battle of sorts, though it seemed to be very one-sided. Eddie wasn't attacking in return, only using that shield thing. As he shouted, he ducked to avoid a vivid green jet of light which ripped into the wall behind him.

Zak's decision was made. He ran forwards suddenly, and must've taken the woman by surprise because she did nothing to stop him as he cannoned into her, knocking her to the ground, his back and neck burning at the movement. He reached wildly for the hand that held the piece of wood and got the wrist. She struggled furiously.

"Get off me, you stupid muggle!"

"Someone give me a hand!" he shouted. Almost immediately, someone was by his side. He felt rather than saw them wrestle the wood out of her hand and he let go, pushing himself away from her. She scrambled to her feet and beginning to run back towards her companions.

"_Expelliarmus!_" came from down the corridor. Zak turned to see the piece of wood Eddie was using fly out of his hand and land on the floor at the other end of the corridor. Zak grabbed the one they had stolen from Webster before he could react, and threw it as hard as he could in Eddie's direction.

"Eddie!" he shouted. Eddie turned and caught it in his left hand, somehow managing to flash Zak a grin before turning back to his opponents. He was against two of them now, moving fast, dodging from one side to another as they shouted undecipherable words that echoed against the walls. The woman reached them but before she could do anything there was another huge bang, this time from the bottom of the stairwell.

"The Ministry," the leader shouted, "get out, get out!" The woman grabbed his arm, and the three disappeared with a crack.

x

It was all rather strange and muddled after that. More cloaked people arrived, and the corridor was soon busy with them. Eddie was talking to someone, explaining, and then listening. After a while he nodded. The man that he was talking to gestured to another, who came over and, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, started to escort him away. At this Zak jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" he said. "Eddie? What's going on?"

This drew everyone's attention to them for the first time, but Zak didn't regret it. Eddie himself turned, and after glancing at the man he'd been talking to as if for permission, he spoke.

"Zak, it's fine. Really. Just a bit of admin, don't worry about it," he said easily. Zak hesitated, his head still swimming slightly. Eddie looked straight at him. "Really, Zak. It's fine. I'll see you a bit later, okay?"

Slowly, unwillingly, Zak nodded and started to sit back down. Everyone went back to whatever it was they had been doing, but he watched carefully as Eddie was escorted down the corridor and into another classroom. The door was shut firmly behind him.

The next few hours they spent sitting in the corridor. Chairs were brought out for them, and a brisk, matronly woman talked to each one of them about what they had seen and noted it down, before checking them over for injuries. When she reached Zak, she had inspected the glass on his back, and did something he couldn't turn his head to see. All he heard was some muttered words and all the pain seemed to go. She padded at the area with some gauze for a few seconds, and that was it. He reached backwards. Smooth skin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting," a voice eventually said. The seven of them looked up. It was the same man that Eddie had been talking to earlier.

"What's going on?"

"Where's Eddie, is he in trouble?"

"Why did he go?"

The man held up his hands for quiet.

"Your friend is in no trouble. We just wanted to talk to him, nothing to worry about," he said reassuringly. "Now, I know you must have a lot of questions," he continued, "but for now a simple explanation will have to suffice."

x

_But it didn't,_ Zak thought. _It's not nearly enough_. And now they had seven days before their housemate was even allowed to talk to them.

They had made their way in silence back to their respective house, and everyone had just gone into their own rooms and shut the doors. Zak supposed they all wanted time to think; he could understand that.

x

"I'd be more than happy to explain everything in full right now," the older man said, "but law is law. We have to wait for a minimum of seven days while the bureaucracy does its thing, and then Eddie will be able to sit and explain everything that's been going on to you." He looked around at their attentive faces as though he'd seen them before – and perhaps he had, Zak thought.

"Well, that's all you're needed for. I must remind you that you are bound not to convey any details regarding these events, but you are welcome to talk about them amongst yourselves. For now, you'd do well to head home and try and get some sleep. Any problems, and you can reach us at this address." He handed them all a small slip of paper bearing the address of somewhere in London, nodded at them, and left. After another few moments of silence passed before they all moved. No one watched them go.

x

At about eleven, they all heard the door to the house open and soft footsteps make their way to Eddie's room and enter. No one went to greet him.


	10. Explanations

It was a week later, and Zak was sitting in the kitchen with the others, balanced on the windowsill with his feet on the table. They had all convened there without any organisation, and they had been chatting about normal, everyday things – but now they were quiet, waiting. Sam, Webster and Emilia had joined them from the house they were sharing a few streets away, and had thankfully managed to convince Josie and Louise to go out shopping for the afternoon. After about fifteen minutes, there were footsteps in the corridor and on the stairs, and Eddie arrived in the kitchen. He didn't seem surprised to see them all there waiting for him, and just walked over to the sink to rinse out the empty glass he was holding.

"It's been a week," Zak said.

Eddie dried the glass with a tea towel and then put it away. Turning back to the rest of the kitchen and leaning against the cupboard, he gave a faint smile.

"I suppose it has."

There was a pause. Eddie looked tired, Zak thought. His pale skin was fractionally more so than usual, and there were faint bags under his weary-looking eyes.

"What…" Sam hesitated before asking the question. Eddie looked at him and nodded for him to continue.

"What… how did you do that stuff? The lights… what was it?" he asked slowly. Eddie raised his eyebrows, but his expression wasn't mocking – it was curious.

"What do you think it was?" he asked inquisitively, directing the question at everyone. Silence. Zak bit his lip, the word that had been in his mind for the last seven days poised on the tip of his tongue.

"Magic."

Heads turned in Zak's direction, as it was he who had spoken. He ignored them, watching Eddie closely, who gave a short laugh.

"My sister owes me money," he said with a grin, "I told her you'd guess, and she didn't believe me."

Zak didn't know whether to be offended or complimented, but he laughed anyway. This seemed to break the tension; everyone relaxed a few inches, at least.

"Really, Eddie? Magic?" Emilia asked, looking a little nervous. Eddie smiled.

"Really." He looked at the others as though making up his mind, and then took from his pocket the slender piece of wood they had seen him use before. He pointed it at the mug on the kitchen table, muttered something under his breath and flicked it.

The mug rose into the air.

It turned around gracefully, its movements an exaggerated version of the gestures Eddie made with the piece of wood, before slowly descending down again to land on the table with a quiet clunk.

There was a moment of silence.

"Whoa," Webster said.

"You can do magic," Amy said, sounding like she could hardly believe it. Of the many hundreds of questions amassing in Zak's head, one fought for his attention.

"So what does that make you? Magician, wizard, warlock… witch…?" he asked. The last suggestion got a few grins, and another laugh from Eddie.

"The term is wizard," he said. "My sister is a witch."

"And that…"

"This is a wand," Eddie said, holding it up.

"Can I see?" Zak asked. Eddie nodded and passed it to Amy, who was closest. They passed it around; when Zak had it he realised that it had a simple, carved handle and seemed to be made out of a single piece of wood.

"Yours is different to theirs," he said. "A different wood?"

Eddie nodded.

"Mine's acacia," he said.

"Are they all different, then?" Sam asked.

"Yep. Every wand is as individual as its owner," Eddie explained. "Different woods, different lengths, different cores."

"Cores?"

Eddie nodded again.

"They vary a lot, but in England it's mostly phoenix tail feather, dragon heartstring or unicorn hair," he said. Everyone looked at him, surprised.

"You're not winding us up, are you?" Zak said, knowing the answer. Eddie shook his head.

"Right."

The wand was passed back to Eddie.

"What core is yours?" Zak asked him.

"Unicorn hair," Eddie said. "Because each creature is individual, it makes each wand unique to its owner."

"Could you use someone else's wand?" asked Emilia.

"I could, yes," Eddie said, "but it wouldn't… well, it would work, but not as well. And big or difficult magic is much easier with your own wand." The room was quiet as people took this in. Eddie didn't rush them, and for that Zak was glad. Another question presented itself, and he voiced it.

"Unicorns?"

x

Several hours later, Zak had so much new information running round his head he felt a little dizzy. A whole magical community hidden behind their own; dragons and phoenixes and unicorns kept a secret; wands and spells and cauldrons and curses and owls and –

A small, sceptical part of Zak's head remarked that it sounded like the blurb for a really cheesy book, but he dismissed it. The weirdest idea, the hardest to understand, was Eddie as a wizard. Eddie. Eddie, who was polite and tidy and quiet, could make things levitate and sent letters by owl post. Eddie, who had perfect grades in GCSE and A-level music, had been to a boarding school for witches and wizards, studying transfiguration and potions and learning how to duel. Eddie, who had brought hardly anything with him to university compared to the others, owned a broomstick, and knew how to fly it.

Zak shook his head to try and clear it. But he found it all fascinating, and couldn't help running through the things he had learnt. Most interesting had been talking about the magical community's attitude to normal people – muggles, Eddie said. There were those who thought of them as friends, but they were a minority. Mostly they were thought of as "different"; the "other" people, not necessarily of less worth but just… different. And there were a select few who believed witches and wizards were superior to muggles. Zak had listened intently as Eddie had explained how this small group, led by one person, had terrorized the magical world over thirty years ago. There was so much to it, so much complexity; but it was real. Really real.

Eddie seemed more animated as he spoke, and Zak wondered how hard it had been to keep it all to himself for the last year and a half. To have a whole part of your life shut away during term time, to try and be honest with your friends without revealing the secret. Zak had never had a secret like that to keep, and now that he was did he was glad that he had the others to share it with – he didn't think he would have been able to alone.

x

Harry, sitting alone in his study yet again, sighed. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses as he shifted position, and yawned, glancing at his watch. Half past one. Great.

He should really head to bed – creep up the stairs, get changed without lighting the candles, and slide into the bed next to Ginny, trying not to wake her. But his mind just wouldn't switch off.

Flicking through the paperwork in front of him, he leant forward again. These were family affairs; papers of ownership for properties and stocks and bonds. The source of the Potter family wealth. But sitting open on top of them was a simple black notebook.

Innocuous and muggle in appearance, it contained much more worth than anyone who saw it would expect. In it, Harry had notes on everything. Times and dates; information tracking anyone suspicious; all the odd little details that didn't quite fit. He had contacts everywhere.

He had never intended to become this, he thought glumly. He had thought he'd left all of the secrets and lies behind when the war had ended. But the lack of outright fighting seemed to only make things more complicated.

He had spent such a long time secluded in the Burrow, recovering from both physical and emotional wounds, and he had expected everything to be dealt with by the time he'd been ready to rejoin the rest of the world. And yes, some things had changed. The Ministry was more enlightened, by miles. Scrimgeour had still been the Minister for Magic, but changes were being made. For example, witches and wizards could now apply for permission to tell a muggle about the wizarding world, instead of having to prove marriage or close blood-relation. The forms were several long scrolls of parchment, and the processing took weeks if not months, but it was an open avenue – one that had not existed before. And it was improving. But then Scrimgeour had stepped down from the position following an illness – his age was beginning to catch up with him – and although he remained an influential voice, Aubrey Callahan was now Minister for Magic. His stance on the matter was vague, probably deliberately. He frequently wrote it off in interviews as a non-issue, which Harry thought was dangerous. Anything that the whole society felt strongly about should be paid close attention to, not dismissed out of hand.

The division of opinions that had begun the war in the first place was still present, though in a slightly altered form. Instead of Death Eaters – anti-muggle – and the Order of the Phoenix – pro-muggle – they had what the Prophet was currently referring to as "pro-integration and anti-integration". In other words, those who believed that the ultimate goal of wizarding society was to integrate with the muggle world, and those who believed that the two should always be kept apart. Oh, there were a few fence-sitters in the middle, but almost everyone had an opinion on the matter.

"We've stayed separate this long, why should we change it?"

"Think of all the things we could learn if we combined muggle science with magic!"

"They'd all want magic – and we'd be stretched thin. There's just not enough of us."

"Do we really have a right to stay separate? This was never meant to be a permanent measure."

"With our population expanding, how can we be sure they won't see us as a threat?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. The debate raged, in some form or another, in every edition of the _Prophet_. It came up in almost every conversation. And people reacted very differently. Harry himself happened to know a few high-ups in the Ministry who knew that the Minister's Office was working on a long-term plan for reintegration, but no one knew whether that was an actual goal of the Minister or simply a contingency plan. And the Minister himself kept at his vague hand-waving responses, committing to neither path.

The extremists were the worrying part. The pro-integration groups had their spokespeople, but the attitude was normally in favour of a slow approach. No one was planning anything drastic like apparating into Leicester Square. But the anti-integration groups… they had their rational supporters by the dozen, but they also had a nastier side. The outright attacks on muggles from the war had become sly undermining of witches or wizards who associated with them; rumour-mongering and quiet slander. Add to that all the unpleasant little 'accidents' that seemed to keep happening to the pro-integrationists – things that broke, trips and falls, general ill-health and misfortune – and it seemed obvious that people were acting out their frustrations. But it was difficult if not impossible to prove.

Harry's musings were interrupted by a polite cough from his office fireplace.

"Come through, Malfoy," he called without turning around. A moment later, Draco Malfoy had joined him in his office.

"Potter," he said in greeting. Harry gestured for him to take a seat which Draco did, gratefully.

"Cold night," the blond man remarked. "Thought you said you wouldn't be up this late tonight."

Harry shrugged.

"These things happen," he replied. "Don't make this a long talk, though."

Draco gave a courteous nod of the head, and Harry responded with a half-smile.

"So," he began. "How's life as an outcast of society?"


	11. Flames

November 2026

"Come on in then, get out of the rain."

The huddle of students all but ran inside to get away from the downpour outside, pulling off hoods and hats and taking down umbrellas as they did so. Thankfully, the pub was warm, and it wasn't long before they were all in a back room taking off their coats and bringing out their instruments. Fifteen minutes later, the manager stuck his head through the door.

"By the way, what are you guys called?" he asked. There was a pause as Henrietta, Eddie, Emilia, Webster, Adam, Amy and Sam all looked at each other for answers, before Zak spoke.

"Phoenix."

The manager nodded and left without comment. As one, the entire group turned to Zak sitting on his bass drum.

"…Phoenix?" Amy asked sceptically.

"What?" Zak said, seeming to be genuinely surprised by her reaction. "I thought it was cool!"

The others looked at each other again with raised eyebrows, and then Sam shrugged.

"It's as good a name as any, I suppose," he said.

x

Autumn 2027

For the third time in three years, Eddie stood in the doorway of his new home and looked around. He had a whole flat to himself now – a tiny one, yes, but on London prices it was all he could afford. Though that could, possibly, be set to change soon.

Eddie and the others had started playing together at pubs early in their third year; it was fun, good practice for university performances, and earned them a little bit of money. To start with it had just been tiny amounts, but they had had so much fun that they did it more often. And then Eddie had offered to write them some of their own songs so that they would not have to keep falling back on covers. The songs were good; very good. By the end of their third year, the eight of them were playing at one of three pubs every week, and when they finally had the opportunity to play some of their music at university their tutor suggested that they make some kind of record of it.

Fast-forward six months, and they had been offered a contract with a record label and had managed to find a set of rooms to rehearse in. This was based in London, so they had all scraped together what they had and found somewhere to live in the city.

Eddie dragged his suitcase in behind him and then turned back to shut the door. The flat was tiny, yes – a small living area with an armchair, a small workspace, and a place to put a television; a tiny kitchen that was open onto the living room; and through the only door other than the front one, a small single bedroom and tiny bathroom. But it was enough for one, and as Eddie began to unpack he felt like he could be very comfortable here.

x

Slowly, Phoenix (the name they were now stuck with, to Zak's great amusement and delight) began to gain a footing. Their songs went on the radio and they released their first single which became very successful. They would never be ridiculously famous, they knew, but so far, so good. They did a couple of interviews for little magazines, and slowly they began to play at multi-band events, mostly around London. They settled into a routine, into a lifestyle. _And anyway,_ Eddie thought, _we can always go back to our original plans if need be._ Eddie had been thinking of teaching piano and Amy guitar; Zak had been looking at proper, secondary school level teaching and the others had been planning to audition for orchestras. It was coincidence that they had formed a group and only sheer chance that they had made it this far.

x

Autumn 2029

The green room was cool. Zak was itching to shut the little window and block out the cold evening air, but he knew when they came back off stage in the interval, they'd all be grateful for the drop in temperature. No one was saying much – this was their seventh performance in nine days, and fun though it was, Zak knew he wasn't the only one who was looking forward to some time off. And of course, there was _that_ problem…

Zak shifted position, trying not to see Henrietta. The eighth member of their band was sitting on the arm of a sofa, leaning against the wall, reading a magazine, her long dyed-red hair cascading in loose curls down her back. Thank god she was leaving at the end of the run.

They'd already organised a replacement – Zak and some of the others had all been for just cutting the band down to seven members, but as Emilia had pointed out most of their music was written for eight. The auditions had been held quietly in the function room of an unpopular little hotel, and Finea Brae had been the third through the door. A talented violinist from Ireland, she was kind and got on well with the rest of the group – with the obvious exception of Henrietta, who treated her 'replacement' as something she'd found stuck to the bottom of her shoe, when she deigned to speak to her at all. Finea bore this with patience and the occasional witty remark, which Zak appreciated, knowing it couldn't be easy.

Zak sighed, letting his eyes shut, frustrated. He knew that getting Henrietta out was the best thing for the group, who needed to work as a team. But it was so difficult, and the whole thing just made him so tired…

It was only when he opened his eyes again that he saw there was smoke seeping under the door. He took a moment to realise what he was seeing, before jumping to his feet, startling everyone else in the room.

"Zak – what –" Webster said. Zak couldn't think of any words to say, so he just pointed at the smoke. Swallowing hard, he managed to articulate his thoughts.

"We need to get out," he said, already feeling a catch in his throat from the smoke. Webster, Henrietta, Adam and Finea nodded, but they had barely gotten to the other door when Zak stopped.

"Wait, where are the others?" he asked. The words were barely out of his mouth before the other door opened in a whoosh of smoke and Sam stumbled through, slamming the door behind him, coughing heartily.

"Sam? Sam?" Zak said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him, trying not to be as frantic as he felt. Sam straightened up a little.

"The others went out the back way," he said. "There's a proper fire back there, but I tried smashing alarms and none of them are going off..." he descended into another coughing fit. Zak nodded and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door. The others followed. The six of them stumbled out of the room and towards the backstage area.

"There's a fire in the back," Zak called to one of the stage hands. "The alarms aren't working – find the manager and make sure everyone's out – we'll handle the audience."

x

Jamie had just finished flicking through his programme when Zak walked on stage, smothering a cough, and gestured to the back of the hall for a microphone to be switched on. He took the microphone into his hand, cleared his throat, and spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?" He waited for a minute until the talk died down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I need to ask you all to remain quiet and calm. We have a fire backstage – it's not big and it's not travelling fast, so you have plenty of time, can you please make your way calmly and sensibly out of the doors and across the road to the checkpoint. Please, do not go home – if you don't register outside, we will believe you are still in the building. You have plenty of time, please do not push, just make your way sensibly out of the main doors – when you get outside you will see the manager holding a big sign, if you could all gather there then we'll know that everyone's safe," he said clearly, raising his voice towards the end of it as people started to move. When they were half-way out, the backstage staff joined him on stage before clambering down to make their way out through the auditorium, along with Finea, Henrietta, Adam, Webster, and Sam, the latter still coughing slightly. A few minutes later, they were all outside waiting for the fire brigade to arrive and watching a strong plume of smoke drift upwards from the rear of the building when Zak felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned.

"Where're Eddie and the others?" Jamie asked him, concern strong in his eyes.

"Sam said they went out the back way – they're probably still walking up to the junction to get back here," Zak said, but even as he spoke he felt fear twist his stomach. _They should have gotten here by now_, he thought. Suddenly there was a loud bang, and several screams from the crowd outside. Zak turned to look. There were now flames clearly visible in the first floor windows, fanned by the wind. Without really thinking about it, Zak took out his phone and checked that the volume was up, then a couple of seconds later decided to call Eddie.

He typed the number into the keypad without thinking, and raised the phone to his ear as he heard the sirens and the fire brigade arrived. He counted six rings before Eddie picked up.

"Zak?" Eddie's voice shook, and that one word sounded breathless and pained.

"Eddie, where are you? Sam said you went out the back way –"

"We're still in the building."


	12. Ashes

"We're still in the building."

Zak felt his heart stop.

"We're – we're okay for now, but the fire's stronger than we realised, it was already between us and the door –"

"Ed, the fire brigade are here, they'll get you guys out," Zak said, hearing a note of panic in Eddie's voice. "Are you okay? Amy and Emilia with you?" he asked. There was a pause. Eddie said nothing.

"Eddie?" Zak said. "You still there?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm here…"

Zak started walking towards the fire fighters.

"Eddie, I'm going to talk to the fire fighters, so they know where you are, okay? Where are you, which part of the building?"

There was another pause, but this time Eddie answered.

"We're on the second floor, on the… the left side of the building as you look at it from the road. I'll try to get to the window," he said.

Zak reached the fire fighters, and explained. One of them immediately took his phone and started talking to Eddie, explaining exactly how they would be there to help, reassuring him.

"How many of you are there?" he asked. He listened for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay, lad, we'll be there in just a minute, okay? Okay."

Within a minute or two, they had ladders against the side of the building. Zak shielded his eyes against the brightness of the flames, now visible in the second floor windows to the right of the building, and he could see the silhouette of someone in the window by the ladder. When the fire fighter climbing the ladder reached the window, which had been pushed open, he reached inside. There was a pause, and then he was helping a blonde woman – Amy! Zak realised – down the ladder. She was coughing violently, and as she reached the ground paramedics were at her side with oxygen. The fire fighter went back up the ladder, but when he was half-way up there was an explosive sound from within the building, and the watching crowd gasped as part of the roof just above the room Amy had come from collapsed in on itself. Zak took an involuntary step forward, his heart in his mouth. _Come on, Eddie, come on…_

As he watched, the fire fighter resumed his climb. When he reached the top, though, he actually stepped in through the window, before leaning back out and shouting something Zak couldn't make out to his coworkers down below. A moment later, there was another fire fighter scaling the ladder after him. The fire raged larger as the other side of the building was attacked with hosepipes. Smoke billowed across the building, obscuring what was happening, but then Zak saw the two firemen with a third figure being half-carried between the two of them, making their way down the ladder. The third figure was covered in dust and there was something brown and red across his hands and lower arms. When they reached the bottom of the ladder, they were swamped by paramedics. Zak tried to get closer but he was stopped by a police officer, one of the several who were slowly checking off the names of the crowd and stopping the traffic further up the road to allow the ambulances to and fro.

Suddenly there was a small commotion by the ambulances, and the police let two figures through who ran immediately to the clump of paramedics. Zak recognised them as they passed, their faces turned to the flames. Harry and Ginny. Realisation stunned Zak into silence for a moment, before his mouth caught up with his thoughts.

"Eddie?" Zak called. The police officer was still keeping him and the rest of the crowd away. "Eddie? Eddie? Eddie!"

x

_PHOENIX IN FLAMES_

_Vicious fire kills one band member, critically injures another_

_Emilia Brown, Phoenix vocalist, was killed in a fire that interrupted the start of a Phoenix concert last night. Shocked audience members congregated on the street opposite as fire fighters rushed to the scene…_

x

The hospital ward was bland, with pale walls and simple, functional furniture. The focus of the room was on the bed, and its current occupant, but next to him in a cushioned but uncomfortable chair was someone else.

Harry Potter shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his face with both hands in an attempt to stay awake that only served to remind him how tired he was. Ginny and Ezzy had gone to get a drink from the tearooms, which he was looking forward to. Hopefully some coffee would be able to keep him awake – he wanted to be there when Eddie woke up. Harry knew the healers had said it would be a few days before he came around enough to hold a conversation, but he didn't care: if there was the slightest chance Eddie was aware of his surroundings, Harry wanted him to know that his family were there for him.

Harry felt pain and anger twist in his heart when he looked at his son, lying in the hospital bed, almost as pale as the sheets, both his arms bandaged up to just above the elbow. The fire had gotten out of control faster than anyone would have expected, and it had reached something explosive – thankfully only in very small amounts – that the emergency services had thus far been unable to identify. Eddie had been barely conscious when the firemen had pulled him out of the building, and he had remained unconscious since being loaded into the ambulance.

Harry reached over and carefully brushed a few strands of black hair away from his son's eyes, keeping carefully away from the soft dressings on the right side of his face and neck. There was a soft click and he looked around to see Ginny and Ezzy returning bearing coffee and something that looked like it might be a bagel which Ginny handed to him.

"We ate ours upstairs," she said softly. "Any change?"

Harry shook his head, struggling to hold back a yawn before admitting defeat.

"Nothing. Not the slightest sound, apart from breathing if you listen really hard," he said. Tiredness was making him feel punchy, so he took the cup his daughter offered him and drank a third of it in one gulp, the hot liquid almost scalding his throat as it went down. The bagel seemed dry and flavourless, but that combined with the coffee revived him a little more. The three of them settled down to a long wait, knowing that there was no use them all being there but somehow none of them really wanting to suggest leaving. The quietness in the room slowly became absolute, except for the occasional muffled sounds of the healers in the corridors and the sound of four people breathing.

x

Eddie woke up two days later. When they told him, Harry almost wished they could have left him asleep.

x

_LEAK: EDDIE POTTER "MAY NEVER PLAY AGAIN"_

_Eddie Potter said to have suffered crippling hand injuries…_

To Be Continued in Lightning Clan Part Two: Master of Sight.

s/8708560/1/2-Master-of-Sight


End file.
